Rising Sun
by Tao
Summary: Anita and Crew go to Japan to run afoul of Weiß and Schwarz with a contract on her life!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Rising Sun

Authors: Tao & Bai Mei

Warnings in General: Violence, Blood, Bad Language, Homosexual Activity, Foreign Languages, bad writers

Warnings this chapter: Cursing and kissing

Disclaimer: We do not own any of these characters. They belong to the wonderful Laurel K. Hamilton-sama. We insult her with our attempt to write Anita. *grovel* And the first chapter is practically LKH's original writing, altered and adjusted to fit the fic, which we are using to correctly introduce the characters and set the mood. We are not claiming it as our own skill!

Dedication: Thank you to Nin for translating, and Philly Maple for the smartass ^_^

Chapter 1.

Japan, land of the rising sun, yadda, yadda, yadda, insert samurai music here. I'd awoken from dreams of being wrapped in silken sheets the color of rich red blood. The feel of soft black hair in my fingers and intense midnight blue eyes. It was the sound of a crash that had pulled my from the sultry dreams, hearing my name whispered with a faint French accent.

Damn you, Jean Claude, stop invading my dreams with such visions. Even now, my control slipped from time to time, and he got through.

We were still flying high over the Pacific, headed to Japan for a vacation, and God, how I hated flying. I have no idea how I even fell asleep. I looked back over my shoulder and spotted Jason had knocked over a tray of glasses. I watched one roll by my feet. I would have picked it up if I hadn't immediately gripped the arms of the chair the moment I woke up. I hate flying. I hate flying. 

It had come from a time the plane I was on had suddenly plunged several hundred feet in a few seconds. The stewardess had ended up on the ceiling, plastered in coffee, and the old woman next to me had broken down and started praying in German. The plane had adjusted right after, but I haven't trusted planes since. I sat in my comfy, fully swivel, fully reclinable chair very upright, fingernails dug into the cushioned arms. The plane was one of Jean Claude's private ones, and so small I felt that Godzilla would be able to bat it right out of the air if he was lurking when we got there. Jason hopped down next to me on the floor, pouncing on the escaping glass like an owl grabbing a mouse. 

Jason was my height exactly, meaning he was only five foot three. You don't often find a grown man that short. Straight, blond hair barely touched the top of his collar, and his eyes were the innocent blue of spring skies. The first time I had met him, he'd tried to eat me. Werewolves do that sometimes, so I didn't hold it against him. He was dressed in an oversized, black sweater that stopped almost at mid-thigh. He'd rolled the sleeves up over his wrists to adjust for the size. I wondered who he'd borrowed it from. His pants were leather, laced on the sides from his waistline to mid-calf, where the laces vanished into large, black boots. The lacings on his pants were loose enough to show a pale line of flesh all the way down. 

He smiled up at me. "Sorry."

I frowned at him, and he blinked, standing up. "Are you afraid of flying?"

I gripped the chair arms tighter, my knuckles going white. 

"I can smell it, you're scared." He chuckled. "Come on, Anita. What's to worry?"

"Leave me alone, Jason. It's a phobia. It has no logic. You can't talk me out of it so just go away."

"We're perfectly safe." He started jumping up and down on the floor of the plane. "See? Solid."

"Zane!" I yelled, closing my eyes to I couldn't watch. Zane appeared beside me as if by magic. He was about six feet tall, stretched long and thin. His hair was cotton white, nearly shaved on the sides and gelled into small, stiff spikes on top. Around his neck was a studded dog collar. He wore black vinyl pants, like a slick second skin, and a matching vest with no shirt. Shiny, black boots completed the outfit. 

"You rang?" he asked in a voice that was incredibly deep. If a shapeshifter spends too much time in animal form, some of the physical changes can be permanent. Zane's gravelly voice and the dainty upper and lower fangs in his human mouth said he had spent just a little too much time as a leopard. 

"Get Jason away from me, please," I said through gritted teeth. Zane looked down at the smaller man and Jason looked back, standing his ground. Zane moved those last two steps to close the distance between them. They stood there, pressed chest-to-chest, eyes locked in a struggle for dominance, each trying to stare each other down. 

Shit. I hadn't meant to start a fight. Zane lowered his face toward the shorter man, a low growl trickling out of closed lips.

"Zane," I warned, and he changed tactics, planting a big, wet kiss on Jason's mouth. Jason jerked back, laughing. 

"You bisexual son of a bitch."

"Now if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black," Zane snorted. Jason grinned and wandered off, though there wasn't much room to wander anywhere. Zane dropped into the seat next to me, the shiny, black vest gaping over his thin chest, giving a glimpse of a silver nipple ring. He patted my knee, and I let him. He was always touching people. A lot of shape shifters were touchy-feely, but Zane had turned the casual touch into an art form. I had finally realized that he touched others as a sort of security blanket. He got really tense if he was in a social situation where he had to stand alone, so I let him touch me when I'd have bitched at anyone else. He tried to play the dominant predator, but he wasn't. 

We all knew it since the time Zane had single-handedly tried to defend the other wereleopards as if he were a dominant with that much power. After I'd killed their previous leader, Gabriel. Because he'd tried to rape me. I hadn't realized it at the time, but it had left them without a dominant to protect them from the other werecreatures. That had been the first time I met Zane. We had both learned then and there that he didn't have what it took. He'd tried to stand up to me by himself, and he'd lost. It was admirable now that I looked back. I was their leader now. It was my duty to them. If you kill the mother, you look after the babies. Not that it was a burden. Now that I'd gotten to know them, I would have extended them my protection anyway. 

"We'll be on the ground soon," he said reassuringly and his hand left my knee. He understood the rules. He could touch me when he was nervous, but I wasn't his lover. I took a moment to locate the other two in my entourage, looking back over my shoulder to avoid seeing the windows. 

Cherry was lounging in a chair behind me, a long pale arm resting on the chair arm as she watched out the window. She was tall and slender, with straight hair so blonde it didn't look real that stopped under her ears. She'd gone for the goth look, with black lipstick, gray eye shadow and her eyeliner reminded me of Egyptian exhibits. Her clothes matched, with black fishnet stockings, a vinyl miniskirt, black go-go boots, and a black lace bra under a fishnet shirt. She and Zane looked like they belonged together as the S&M couple from Mars. Tweedle-punk and Tweedle-slut. I would have chosen much most tasteful colors for her to wear. If she was this stunning like this, imagine how she'd look in makeup that matched her skin tone. And clothes that left a little more to the imagination. At least she had worn a bra. I happened to know she preferred to be topless. 

Jason was staring at her from trying to reorganize the glasses at the small bar behind her. Trust Jean Claude to have a small private plane with a mini-bar. I was surprised there wasn't a fireplace with an animal skin in front of it somewhere. Maybe I just hadn't found that yet. I was too scared to leave my seat. 

Jason's gaze didn't wander from her pale hair glowing in the light from the window. It wasn't that he really desired her, Cherry was female, and Jason hit on anything that was female. Just habit. He'd even tried hitting on me after he'd gotten over trying to eat me. But he learned to curb his tendencies concerning me under threat of Jean Claude and Richard. Either keep his hands off, or suffer the wrath of a master vampire and an alpha werewolf. 

Jean Claude. Richard. I think they were the reasons I had wanted to take this vacation. I needed time away from them. I needed a little breathing space. After I had basically dumped them both, it was nearly impossible to avoid them in St Louis. My jogging buddy, Ronnie, told me I needed a vacation. After I cleared it with Burt, my boss. He'd been upset at first, but we didn't have much call for zombie raising in the Easter timeframe. People seemed to think we couldn't raise zombies on the holy holidays and such. Showed what they knew. All it requires is darkness. 

Larry, the freckle-faced collage student and budding necromancer, declared he'd keep the vampires and nasties in check while I was gone. I told him to lock himself in his house till I came home. He was a young, enthusiastic kid. But enthusiasm without experience equaled one very dead, young vampire executioner. I still don't know why he insisted on being an executioner like I was. Being a necromancer was enough. Wasn't it? I guess it hadn't been for me. Larry was growing up to be me. Poor kid. I wouldn't wish that on my greatest enemies. 

Having woken from Jason's yelling, Nathaniel stretched in his seat, reclining the seat back till his feet came up against the back of Cherry's seat. Cherry glanced back at him with a smile and he smiled back lazily. Nathaniel was the youngest of them, only nineteen and already caught up in the shape-shifting world. His dark auburn hair flowed down the front of his shoulder like dark liquor till it stopped in his lap. I knew it had only stopped there because he was sitting down. If he had been standing it would have hung to his knees. He was built short like me but with wide shoulders like a mini body builder. I kept thinking he was awaiting a growth spurt, where the rest of his body would fill out and catch up to his shoulders. He also wore leather pants that hugged his legs, making me wonder where they all shopped. Leather and whips R us? He wore a large, white pirate-like shirt that flowed with excess material around his waist and arms, lacing loose on his chest. Eyes the pale lavender of Easter grass blinked at me sleepily over a boyish grin. 

I offered him a small smile and thought about the coffin in the bottom of the plane. Jean Claude couldn't come, but he had sent Asher. The Master of Tokyo hadn't been pleased about that either, but Jean Claude had insisted. Being polite as all Japanese folk were, the master had finally agreed. Although I knew he wasn't happy about it. Having another master vampire in your territory was always a threat. The last one had thought Asher was his replacement and lashed out viciously. Nathaniel had nearly died from a poisonous bite. I wonder how Asher felt about being treated like luggage during the daylight hours, but he had done it many times before so I figured it didn't bother him. 

Once, Asher and Jean Claude had been in love with the same woman, and they had all stayed together. Until that woman had been burned at the stake for being a witch. The church had thought they could cleanse the demon out of Asher with holy water. It hadn't worked. And it had scarred him horribly. Asher blamed Jean Claude for not having saved the woman, Julianna. He had wanted my life in return. Now he accepted me. Because I had accepted his scars. His left side was beautiful. Eyes like pale, pale, blue ice and his hair was like spun gold. His face was like those you see on Greek statues. But his right side, the side he had come to cover with his long golden hair, it was scarred beyond help. Starting from his hairline all the way down to his hip, his skin was so much scar tissue, dribbling like water all down his body. He'd thought he could intimidate me with those scars. But I had scars myself. More than I cared to think about. I wore long sleeve shirts due to them. I hadn't been afraid. Asher was beautiful, even with the scars. 

I shook my head, closing my eyes. I had to stop thinking about home, and the past. I was on vacation.


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings: Scaring restaurant customers

Chapter 2. 

The hotel was magnificent. Cherry and I were in one room, which had two bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen. Not that I worried about the kitchen. I never cook. Short of making a pot of coffee. Good thing the hotel had room service. 

Nathaniel and Zane took another room, leaving Jason and Asher in a third. As expected, the mutant couple from planet X drew many stares. Zane had offered them a predatory smile while Cherry had simply ignored them, stalking on long legs made longer by her black high heels. Jason and Nathaniel carried the coffin between them, making it look like it was an effort. I knew that was fake. Little Nathaniel himself could bench press a grand piano with little effort. With Cherry and Zane, the presence of a coffin suddenly didn't seem so strange to the hotel staff. They politely escorted us to our rooms with quietly spoken "Dozo"s and so much bowing I would have gotten dizzy and fallen over. Or at least a head rush and whiplash. 

The first thing I did was take a nice, hot shower while Cherry examined the TV. I didn't know what she expected to find. A sumo-wrestling contest? I placed my Browning Hi-power under my pillow. Another advantage of taking a private plane. You can take weapons. Even if I was on vacation, I was not going unarmed. Paranoid? Me? You betcha. I tucked the little Firestar into my waistband and strapped my knives to my arms under the sleeves of my blouse. What's wrong with a little security? The Yakuza came from Japan, didn't they?

I wandered back out into the living room in a blue blouse and comfortable black slacks, drying my hair to see the others had piled into my room. Nathaniel and Zane were sprawled on the couch. Cherry was leaning her head on Zane's shoulder, and Nathaniel had his head on Zane's thigh, his legs dangling over the arm of the couch, hair spilling off the couch to the floor, looking like an auburn waterfall. Jason sat on the floor, leaning against the couch near Cherry's legs. They were all staring at the TV as if they were mesmerized. I blinked and looked. I raised an eyebrow to see a little, yellow football creature riding the shoulder of some cartoon kid. The kid yelled and made motions and the football leapt into the air, shrieking something at an incredibly high pitch; making me wince. 

It was almost comical. These four had faced death and knives, and guns, and vampires, and werewolves, and...they were staring like wide-eyed children at a cartoon they couldn't even understand. I wished I could have taken a picture. I wondered if what they said about Japanese TV was true. How the shows made you have seizures. Maybe they were all having petit mal seizures. I started to laugh and all eyes turned toward me. They looked so confused I laughed harder. 

"What's so funny, Anita?" Jason slid up the couch next to Cherry, almost gliding up it like a snake and peering at me over the edge of the couch. 

I managed to calm my chuckling. "Good cartoon?"

Zane grinned at me, turning his head over his shoulder. "These things make me hungry."

"Are we gonna go out to eat, Anita?" Nathaniel asked, grabbing Zane's shoulder to pull himself up to sitting position. 

"Why not?" I shrugged. Seeing them relax enough to watch cartoons made something in me relax. Nathaniel jumped up off of the couch excitedly. I noticed he had pinned his hair back at the nape of his neck with a silver hair clasp. I knew silver hurt lycanthropes. I eyed Zane and Cherry as they stood up.

"I don't think we'll be allowed into any restaurants with you two dressed that way." I eyed them. They looked at me, looked each other up and down, then back to me. 

"Why not?" they asked. 

Because we might scare them so much they kick us out. But I didn't say that aloud. 

"I don't know if Tokyo is ready to deal with S&M Barbie and Ken." I looked them both up and down. Zane grinned and flicked his nipple ring. 

"Let them deal with it." He snickered his words breathily, almost like a purr with his deep voice. Cherry smiled with him, and I gave it up. They were big kids. It's not like they would get their feelings hurt.

"Come on, Anita." Nathaniel grabbed Zane's arm, looking eager. Jason nodded. I looked down at my rather plain looking clothes. I felt rather out of place, but I wasn't going to put on anything leather, short of my shoes. There was a knock at the door, and all eyes went to it. Zane's nostrils flared, sniffing. 

"Dare desu ka?" Cherry asked, and I blinked at her. She spoke Japanese? I heard a child's voice on the other side and Nathaniel hurried over to answer the door. A boy about Jason's height stood there with a vase of flowers. Two dozen white roses. With one blood red rose in the center. I didn't even have to ask who they were from.

"Jason!" I spun on him. He dived behind the couch like he was avoiding a grenade.

"You called Jean Claude, didn't you?" I demanded. "What are you, a double agent?"

Jason cringed between the couch and the coffee table, looking like a scolded puppy.

"I HAD to," he whimpered. "He said if you didn't call as soon as you got in your room, I should."

I was torn between screaming at Jason or calling Jean Claude and screaming at him. But what good would that do? Jean Claude would be simply be amused. I was slightly glad Richard hadn't given him the same orders. Or had he? The boy was still standing in the doorway, blinking at us. He certainly looked young, chubby baby cheeks and large, blue eyes sparkled under unruly, copper hair covered by a backwards baseball cap that framed his face and hung in his eyes. He wore a simple white and magenta T-shirt over blue jean shorts. Like a normal kid. He reminded me of Larry. Except the eyes. The eyes spoke so much more. They spoke of seeing things one his age should not have seen. They spoke of suffering and anguish, and sparkled with vitality all at the same time. Unusual. 

The boy looked back at me, almost as if he could see what I read in his eyes. Then it occurred to me. Copper hair and blue eyes? Maybe he was American. I stepped forward to accept the vase. The kid just delivered them. It wasn't his fault Jean Claude was an arrogant bastard. 

"Blake-san?" he asked in a sweet voice. I nodded. He smiled brightly at me as he surrendered the vase into my hands. 

"Are you American?" I asked as I heard the water slosh a little, deep inside the vase. He blinked a moment then smiled.

"No," he answered in English with a forgiving smile. Ah, he must be asked that question a lot. I took it that meant he was born here and considered himself Japanese. 

"Domo arigato gozimasu," Cherry said to him and he grinned brightly at her. 

"Hai! Ja matta ne!" he cried and hurried down the hall. Good kid. I wondered what haunted him. Nathaniel closed the door and I turned to Cherry to see that predatory gleam in Zane's eyes.

"Down, furball," I warned. "You're only eating it if it comes from a restaurant, room service, or a supermarket."

"Not even one juicy little kid?" He grinned, bearing those fangs again. 

"Try, and I'll shoot you," I warned, putting the vase on the glass coffee table. "We're here on vacation. Not a safari."

Zane tried to look disappointed. Cherry and Nathaniel chuckled as Jason grinned, getting back to his feet. 

"So, Cherry, when did you learn Japanese?" I changed the subject.

"Back when I heard we were coming here." Cherry brushed back her hair with her fingers. "I took it upon myself to learn a few phrases."

Ah, Cherry, the ever responsible. Why hadn't I thought of that? Maybe that's why she was a nurse and I was a zombie raiser. 

"Eat! Eat!" Nathaniel cheered. "I want to try sushi! It's raw."

Eating raw meat of any kind had no real appeal for me, but then I didn't turn fuzzy on the full moon either. 

We hustled out of the hotel onto the streets. Very crowded streets. I started to feel claustrophobic. I discovered the advantage of clinging close to Zane, who towered over the majority of the crowd, and most of the busily bustling, black-haired folk gave him and Cherry a wide birth. 

"Do we take a taxi or walk?" Jason asked, blinking and looking around. 

"Walk it," I suggested. "We want to get to know the surrounding area anyway."

My troupe followed me down the sidewalk, Zane and Cherry clearing the way just by walking that direction. I had no clue what the stores were except by the merchandise. A clothing store, a toy store, a bookstore, a video store. Then I spotted what looked like a restaurant. I stepped in and saw the battlefield of shoes at the door. A small Japanese woman tucked her hands to her thighs and bowed, smiling. 

She said something in Japanese and I gave her the deer caught in the head in the headlights look. Cherry interviewed to save the stupid American by speaking a few short sentences of Japanese. Our little host bowed and nodded, looking at our shoes. I guess we were supposed to take them off. 

"Off with the shoes, folks." I turned to look at them, knocking my flats off my feet, using my feet alternately and putting them to the side. They obeyed, pulling off boots and piling them next to mine. Zane wore black socks. Interesting. Why was it interesting? Heck if I know. 

We sat on mats around a table, trying to figure out the menu. I glared at mine as if I stared at it long enough it might turn into English. Cherry was speaking broken clips and phrases to the host, who was patiently trying to understand. We were getting a lot of stares from the other customers. But they were a lot more comfortable than the stares I've gotten from vampires and werewolves. These stares were amused, confused, or interested. Werewolves and vampires stared at you like they were wondering what you would taste like. Chicken or pork? Chicken or pork? Beef maybe. But I figured I'd taste like chicken. Didn't everything? 

I ordered something that Cherry indicated was chow mein and vegetables. Sounded safe enough to me. Nathaniel ordered sushi. Of course. 

"Hey, let's go shopping after this," he suggested. "I saw something in a store that had a lot of straps."

I definitely did not want to enter a store that sold clothing with lots of straps. But Nathaniel looked so excited, I agreed. After that he amused himself by looking around at the other customers, smiling at those that stared back too long. By the sudden flushes on their faces, I could tell it was more than your average friendly smile Nathaniel was offering. It made me want to thump my head on the table. Why was I stuck with the S&M crew? 

Gabriel had been pimping the wereleopards out before I killed him. Nathaniel had enjoyed it. Until one of the customers had gutted him. That was how I had first met him. In the hospital, facing down Zane over him. Jean Claude used him as a stripper from time to time in his vampire strip club 'Guilty Pleasures'. 

"I have an idea," Jason piped up, tracing the designs made by the woods in the table with his finger. "Why not check out the community here?"

"Jason." I grit my teeth. "Being a vampire or a werewolf is not legal here. And I'm not going to risk us on our vacation."

"It was a thought." Jason wilted again under my glare. 

"Anita, relax." Cherry grinned, folding her legs out beside her in a feminine manner. "Repeat to yourself. I'm on vacation. I'm not killing vampires. I'm not fighting werewolves. I'm on vacation."

"I know I'm on vacation," I looked at her. "I'm happy as a clam. See?"

I put on a smile I think came out as a grimace. 

"You've got a gun, don't you?" she twittered. Caught with my hand in the cookie jar. But that was no surprise. The only time I wasn't armed was when I was naked in the shower. And if I hung one off the showerhead it would rust. Zane reached over and stroked his fingers across my hand, making me wonder what was up. 

A tall redhead walked by with a dark haired man, smiling down at us as they passed. He wore a black jacket, buttoned down the center in a long, box shape, distinctly Mickey Mouse fashion. His hair leaned more toward the orange species, like Larry's hair. But no freckles. A pair of sunglasses perched on his head over a yellow bandanna. I recognized that look. The look of a predator. He wasn't Japanese. That much was obvious. And he was looking at Zane and Nathaniel. Zane gave him glances and Nathaniel stared openly. The redhead passed us and sat down with his companion at another table. His companion wasn't Japanese either. He looked like home grown American. His hair was short and dark, a few strands escaping his gel job, sticking out like antennae. He wore a white business suit and glasses. 

Were they staring because we weren't Japanese either? Or something else? Jason nudged closer to me, bumping against my arm. I put a hand on his shoulder, giving him the contact he was asking for. They seemed frightened, or nervous. What could it have been? I hadn't felt anything from the strangers, but the terminally furry were obviously agitated. 

"What?" I asked quietly as Zane lifted his hand away. 

"That man, seemed to recognize me," Zane answered lowly, his voice dropping to a rumble. "But I've never seen him before. He smelt like...."

"Death." Cherry looked to me. 

"What does death smell like?" I asked lowly, glancing at the two.

Two sets of blue eyes, one set of brown eyes, and one set of lavender all looked at me. 

"You," Nathaniel answered quietly. I didn't like that answer.


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: Blood and uncensored memory montage. Memory montage taken from LKH's writings for accuracy.

Chapter 3.

Our food arrived, surrounded by good smells, taking our minds from the disturbing conversation. Nathaniel poked at his meal with a finger before picking up the chopsticks in his fist and stabbing it. I picked up the two pieces of murdered tree and put them between my fingers awkwardly. Zane looked down at his plate of some meat and vegetable and grabbed with his fingers. Cherry had no trouble with the egg rolls she had ordered, chewing delicately. Jason sniffed his plate, and taking a chopstick in either hand, tried to spear his food from either side and bring it up to his mouth. Americans? You must be mistaken. We are from some previously unknown and uncultured tribe from the jungles of South Africa. 

I chased a piece of wild baby corn across my plate, finally trapping it in a tangle of chow mein, and seizing it with the chopsticks. In success, I lifted it to my mouth. It escaped as my chopsticks crisscrossed and hurried back to rejoin the rest of its buddies. Narrow escape. I needed a fork. With a fork I could harpoon the food to death. 

Cherry watched me struggle as Jason dropped food in his lap, looking down at it in disappointment. Zane happily licked greasy fingers, grabbing for more. Nathaniel was doing the best, stabbing pieces of his food and shoving it into his mouth before it fell off the sticks. Beyond my frustration at not being able to eat when it was right there in front of me, I felt happy. It was almost like sitting down with a family. A sick twisted family, but a family nonetheless. 

"Should I get you a fork, Anita?" Cherry smiled. I frowned. I had great manual dexterity. I was not about to let two pieces of wood defeat me. I readjusted the chopsticks and seized a piece of water chestnut. Successful this time, I finally got to eat something. Bully for me.

Zane had nearly finished his plate, dropping food into his mouth with his fingers and licking them languorously. Nathaniel ate all of his sushi, looking at my plate. Jason was picking food out of his lap with his fingers and eating that. I finally managed to tangle chow mein till it didn't fall off. Seeing Nathaniel staring so hungrily at my plate, I also gave him some. He was a growing boy, or cat, or whatever. 

I found myself observing the two strangers again as they chatted while awaiting their food. How had a mere human disturbed the were so easily? And how could that man have recognized Zane? Mysteries afoot. Or maybe I was searching for something. There was always a mystery going on for me. It seemed strange not to have one now. 

"I'll only say it once, Zane. Put him down."

"He's mine! Mine!" Zane took striding steps down the hallway, and I fired. The bullet spun him halfway around, and staggered him to his knees. The shoulder I'd hit stopped working, and Nathaniel slid out of his arms. Zane got to his feet with the smaller man tucked under his good arm like a doll. The flesh of his shoulder was already reknitting, rebuilding itself like a fast-forward picture of a flower blooming. 

Zane could have rush past me, to use his speed, but he didn't. He just came walking towards me as if he didn't believe I'd do it. He should have believed. 

The second lead bullet took him square in the chest. Blood exploded out of his pale skin. He fell on his back, spine bowing, struggling to breathe with a hole the size of a fist in his chest. I went for him, not running, but hurrying. I walked wide around him, out of arm's reach, and came up a little behind him, and to the side. The shoulder I'd shot was still limp, his other arm trapped under Nathaniel's body. Zane gasped up at me, brown eyes wide. 

"Silver, Zane, the rest of the bullets are silver. I'll make it a head shot and blow your freaking brains all over this nice clean floor."

I shook my head. Why was I suddenly thinking about that? I looked at Zane, who was licking the last of his meal off of his fingers. He'd broken down crying after that. Thus inciting the guilt trip. The bad guys weren't supposed to cry. I caught the green eye of the redhead looking back at our table. He was looking straight at me. How long had he been doing that? 

"Geez, Dolph, if it wasn't happening with everything else, I'd say it could be almost any right-wing fruitcake. Did you get the machine gunner alive?"

"Nope," Dolph said. "The survivors ate him."

I blinked rapidly. What was happening? 

"Then Nathaniel has to stay here at least another twenty-four hours," Kevin said. He rolled the cigarette between his fingers while he talked.

Stephen nodded. "That's what the doctor said. We asked when he told me I could go home today."

"Don't leave me, Stephen," Nathaniel reached out across the space between them, as if he could touch them.

"I won't leave you alone, Nathaniel, not without someone to take care of you."

I wanted to clutch my head. The memories were flashing erratically. I couldn't make them stop. Like something was digging. Searching. Pulling memories to the surface.

Wren and Tucker were having trouble getting the body into the bag. Wren finally threw the body across one shoulder and Tucker started squirming the legs into a bag.

"First you tame Asher. Now you seek to tame me. You have nothing I want, Anita."

"I have Jason."

Yvette hissed at me, all that careful beauty breaking down and showing the beast inside. She snatched at him around me, and he jerked back. She pawed at him like a cat, and I kept my body between them, moving us into the corner of the circle. I felt Jason's back hit the wall, and I grabbed Yvette's arm.

Padma collapsed to the floor with me riding his body. I rose up, hands flat over his chest, legs straddling his body. "We are the Thronos Rokke, the Throne Rock people, and we are no one's pawns."

Fernando knelt down just outside the circle. "Father," he said.

"His life or yours, Padma. His life or yours."

Padma closed his eyes and whispered, "His."

"Father! You can't give me to her. To them!"

"Your word of honor that he is ours to punish as we see fit, even unto death," I said. 

Padma nodded. "My word."

Damian, Jason, and Rafael just suddenly appeared around Fernando. He reached out to his father. "I am your son."

I wiped blood off my chin with the back of my hand. The munin was leaving, draining away. 

I could taste blood all the way down.

Jason grabbed my arm, breaking me from the memory, and I was still staring into green eyes. They turned away with a smirk.

"Anita." Jason shook me gently. I took deep breaths, trying to blink tears from my eyes.

"Anita, what happened?" Cherry had come around the table to kneel next to me.

"Memories." I shook them off. "Just memories."

Zane frowned, looking over at the two strangers, then back to me. "Do you want to leave, Anita?"

I found myself rising to my feet without thinking. 

"We'll go shopping." Nathaniel got to his feet. "It's a good distraction."

I nodded, feeling numbed. There weren't many worse memories that could have come up. Except the Senora, Harold Gaynor, or Phillip. Maybe. We headed over to the register to pay, Cherry inquiring about the price. 

Phillip sagged in the chains. Blood poured in a bright red flood down his chest. It splattered onto the floor, like rain. Torchlight glittered on the wet bone of his spine. Someone had ripped his throat out. 

Finally coming to my senses, I slammed my barriers up, dashing out of the restaurant, standing on the sidewalk in socks. I gripped my arms and stared back at the door with horror. I had thought briefly about Phillip, and suddenly the memory resurfaced with punishing clarity. It wasn't right. Something wasn't right. I hadn't called the memory. Something...someone else had. Like a vampire. But the sun was up. All good little vampires should be asleep in their beds. I thought again about the redhead's piercing green eyes. 

"Anita?" Cherry hurried out to meet me on the sidewalk, stomping her boots back on. She handed me my shoes and I put my hand on her shoulder for balance as I put them on. 

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, looking at me with her azure eyes, under gray eyeshadow, ringed with black crayon. 

"I'm fine." I lifted my hand from her shoulder. "I...something was bringing my memories to the surface. I had to get out of there."

Cherry shivered and nodded, crossing her arms as the boys came out, having put their shoes on before stepping out. Suddenly, looking at them, I was very glad I wasn't alone here. 

Nathaniel paraded around in black leather, showing off the outfit he coveted while the female store clerks stared and giggled in appreciation. It reminded me of the time I had seen Richard eat Marcus, his old leader. I had worn an outfit like that. I hadn't enjoyed it. Shiny, black leather contrasted against light, creamy skin as Nathaniel turned to show me the back. 

"Very nice, Nathaniel," I said absently, trying not to look too closely. 

"I wonder how much this is." His eyes glowed with excitement, running his hands down the smooth leather on his thighs. I tried not to watch.

"Ta-dah!" Jason jumped out of a changing booth in black leather pants with whole strips of material missing in slashes across his calves and thighs. He wore a simple white shirt under a black vest like Zane's. 

"Are normal clothes taboo for you folk?" I asked, blinking at him. 

"We'd prefer to be naked," Zane rumbled next to me, observing Jason's outfit. "Clothes are for play."

No use reasoning with them. Nathaniel and Jason flung an arm around each other's shoulders, and grinned at me. They looked like they were waiting for wandering photographer to swoop in and take advantage. Maybe they were.

"I'm not paying for them, why are you looking at me?" I raised an eyebrow. 

"Cherry!" Nathaniel leapt at her. "Help me buy this!" 

He drug her off to make use of the blonde's linguist skills. Jason followed. I looked to Zane, who was grinning. 

"Anita, you are too tense," he scolded me gently. 

"Tense, my ass." I tried to grin at him. To tell the truth, the restaurant experience had creeped me out. Something had sought out everything bad I'd done. Piercing green eyes. 

My own eyes widened as a realization hit me. Telepath?

"Anita?" Zane asked, his fingers going to my arm as if to grab me if I fainted. 

"Zane." I looked at him seriously. "That man, that man who seemed to know you. He was a telepath, I'm sure of it!"

I've met and worked with folks with gifts. The last clairvoyant to touch me and see blood had started screaming and refused to stay in the same room with me. That's me, life of the party.

Zane suddenly looked very worried. "Did he do something in the restaurant?"

I bit my lip and narrowed my eyes. "Yeah, he pissed me off royally!"

He grinned and pulled his fingers away. 

"That's what I love about you, Anita," he purred. "You never change."

I didn't like the idea that some stranger knew that much about me. What did he plan to do with it? National Enquirer. I know the Zombie Queen's secrets: tell-all story. 

"Anita!" Jason bounced back to me with a shirt. "Put this on!"

I warily looked at the shirt. It was a regular white T-shirt, short, to show the belly, and trimmed in baby blue. The kind of shirts young girls wore. On the front was a fuzzy, large, and sad-eyed baby penguin. 

"You love penguins!" Jason grinned from ear to ear. I sighed, looking at Zane, who grinned madly.

"Penguins?" He chuckled. "How unique."

I looked at the shirt again, saw the penguin looking at me with those puppy dog eyes, and sighed, grabbing the shirt and going to pay for it. Yeah, I'm a sucker for a cute face. 

Cherry bought herself a few sheer, see-through items, and Zane merely gave his approval on everyone's choices. Maybe it was the penguin shirt that caved me in, but Nathaniel presented me with a pair of tight, shiny, black pants that he claimed would go with the shirt. They were getting too smart. Working off the penguin. I actually bought the damn things and knew I'd never wear them. Jean Claude would have been pleased. The last thing I wanted to do was please him. This was MY vacation. 

We kept walking with our bags of purchases, Nathaniel and Jason bouncing around like the kids they were, running into random stores and dragging me in to look at big-eyed Japanese toys and scaring me with the food. Jason actually picked up a raw and very wet and slimy squid and offered it to me. People ate that stuff?

Nathaniel picked up an absolutely huge red and silver fish with a gaping mouth and pretended to be kissing it hungrily. The storekeeper looked as if he wasn't sure whether to laugh or call the cops. For all their antics, I was starting to relax. 

I tensed again. I could feel it. The power in the air. It signaled lycanthrope. And it was different from the ones I was with. I looked around till I spotted him. He was standing across the street in a small dark violet shirt that stretched over his thin body, and black pants that cling to his hips for dear life. Small, black gloves covered his hands. His hair was orange-ish, falling forward heavily into his eyes like an overhanging bush. He was watching us. Zane touched my shoulder again, having spotted the intruder. 

Seeing I had noticed him, the man strode across the street smoothly, striding like a cat. My hand started to slide for the Firestar.

"Hello," he said pleasantly, smiling with sharp, white teeth. "Anita Blake?"

His voice had an Asian accent, but it was only slight. I could see the touches of lycanthrope in him. His eyes were a burnished gold, like predator's eyes. He was built lean and solid, like a creature that moved fast and agilely. His voice almost had a gravelly tone to it, similar to Zane's, and his upper canine teeth were a bit sharp. Tiny, little fangs. I could feel Zane tense beside me, and felt his power rise in challenge.

"Yes, that's me," I answered, my hand on the Firestar. 

"I am Kannon." The young man folded one arm over his chest to grip his other arm. He cocked his head to one side so his hair fell to the side. He wasn't much taller than me. "The Master of Tokyo directed me to be your guide."

"Guide?" Zane's voice nearly growled. Kannon grinned at him. 

"And what are you?" I asked. "You're not a vampire, so why do you answer to the Master of Tokyo?"

Kannon laughed and it was almost a yipping sound. Something clicked in my head.

"Werefox?" I asked him. He grinned at me lazily.

"We are called kitsune here," he explained. "Fox spirits to the people of Japan. And I came because I am the Master's creature to call."

The Master of Tokyo called foxes. Like Jean Claude called wolves. My hand eased off the Firestar. 

"And he sent you because you speak English," I finished for him. That explained the hair. He looked Japanese, but that hair definitely looked like a fox's coat. Tawny red with black ends.

"Exactly." He nodded. "I tried to meet you at your hotel when we heard you had arrived, but you were already gone."

"How do we know we can trust you?" I asked warily. Foxes were known for their trickery.

"You can't," he replied truthfully with a grin and a sparkle of gold eyes. The power had slowly trickled off, and I felt Zane relax in response. Jason was peering at Kannon over my shoulder. 

"So, I guess we met the natives," he remarked, staring. 

"And what does the Master of Tokyo stand to gain by sending you?" I asked.

"I'm surveillance, of course." Kannon snickered. "If you stick your nose where it doesn't belong, I bite it off."

He was so honest, it was hard not believe him. Of course he was surveillance. If he had lied, I'd have known something was up. Probably still was. It's pretty rare for me to meet a vampire or shape shifter without a personal agenda.

"Okay, Kannon." I nodded. "Thanks for coming to help us."

He smiled brightly. "I'm sure it will be fun. What with what I have heard about America's Executioner."

My reputation precedes me. Was that a good thing?

"Honestly, I thought you would have been bigger."

He won me over. He was honest as a sharp stick in the eye. I always hear that phrase.

"Yeah, well, the neckbiters tend to underestimate me that way." I grinned back, and felt everyone relax. Kannon laughed that yipping laugh again. 

"Welcome to Tokyo, Blake-san." He spread his arms. "How may I be of help?"


	4. Chapter 4

Warnings: Raw and uncut flower footage

Chapter 4. 

Kannon led us through Tokyo, pointing out shops and naming buildings. He quickly won Nathaniel over, who bounced along with him with the kind of energy only the young have. It was starting to get late, the sun on its downward slope when I decided it was time to head back. Asher would wake soon. Cherry and Kannon were chatting on about the way the girls here dressed in little school uniforms, Zane was still scaring people, Jason was chewing on some kind of meat on a stick he bought from a cart on the street, and Nathaniel... I looked around. Where was Nathaniel?

"Stop!" I cried. "We're short a kitty!"

Zane immediately turned. "Nathaniel!"

"Anita!" Nathaniel popped out of a store just behind us and offered me a white and red-edged carnation. 

"Ah, thanks." I accepted the flower, admiring the coloring of the petals. "You scared me a moment. Don't wander off like that again without telling us."

"Sorry." Nathaniel smiled. "But this store has the same roses you got earlier."

I stepped back and saw the same bouquet I had gotten from Jean Claude in the window of the small store. White roses surrounding a single red. It couldn't be. I stepped into the store, staring at the roses.

"Irrashai, konban wa!" a cheery voice called, jerking my gaze to the speaker. It was that same copper haired boy from earlier. He recognized me, giving me a cheery smile and waving. Nathaniel stepped in behind me, followed by the rest of the crew. There was a tall, slender redhead in the corner, cutting the stems of roses at an angle before putting them into a water-filled bucket. He glanced at us with a very disinterested look and looked back to his work. An honest-faced brunette was creating another flower arrangement behind the counter, and a tall, lithesome blonde with wavy hair to his shoulders turned from doing apparently nothing at all and I watched his eyes lock on Cherry. They all wore work aprons. Busy little florists.

"Konban wa," Kannon answered, stepping in behind me.

"Konban wa." The blonde stepped up, smiling at Cherry in a very inviting manner. She smiled back at him, catching the meaning of the look. I looked to the boy. 

"The roses, in the window." I pointed. The boy looked at the roses and looked at me, nodding. Gee, articulate, aren't I? He obviously thought I meant those were the same he had delivered to me. I meant to ask why he was displaying that arrangement. Everything was out to aggravate me today. I looked to Kannon.

"Ask him about the roses. Why they are displaying them," I demanded. 

"They are lovely, aren't they?" He smirked.

"Ask, dammit!" I snapped. Kannon grinned at me and spoke to the boy. He was almost as infuriating as Jean Claude.

"He says they liked the arrangement, it was different." Kannon looked back to me. "Does it upset you?"

I bit my tongue. Of course it did. It was Jean Claude staring me in the face when I had come here to get away from him. It's not their fault, they don't realize. Shit.

"No, it's fine." I shrugged. "It was just the same as I had delivered to me earlier." 

Kannon nodded. "The boy said he had delivered the same to you earlier. He also says you are very pretty."

I had to smile at the boy, who blushed and scampered behind the register. Getting hit on by children now. A dirty, old lady? Me?

The tall redhead spoke quietly. Kannon turned and winked at him. "He asked if we were going to buy anything."

I looked at the sober redhead and then around the store. The tall blonde was already teasing Cherry with some kind of pink frilly flower and Zane looked ready to break his legs. Nathaniel was waiting patiently while Jason looked at all the flowers. 

"Um, tell them if any more orders come for me, not to deliver them," I said finally. Kannon raised a black-dusted, red eyebrow and spoke to the boy. The boy looked to me and answered back quickly. 

"He's asking if you didn't like it." Kannon looked back.

"No, it's not that," I sighed. "They come from someone I'd rather not get flowers from at the moment."

"An admirer?" Kannon grinned. 

"Just, tell them." I grit my teeth, and Kannon explained. The boy looked to me and nodded with an understanding smile. I smiled back at him. The solemn redhead spoke.

"He says he apologizes," Kannon translated. I nodded to the redhead, trying to convey that it wasn't his fault. Boy, it's no one's fault. So who's is it really?

The redhead studied me a moment, as if he were sizing me up. There was something familiar about that look. I thought about it a few moments, looking back at pale eyes, eyes the color of Nathaniel's. But there was challenge and strength in this gaze, unlike Nathaniel's. A dominant. I was looking at a potential human dominant. You don't meet too many of those. And even less that survive to full potential. This was a young man yet. Here's to hoping he never had to put himself to the test. 

It made me study him a few moments more. He was tall, and slender like Kannon, face almost feminine in its delicate lines. But there was no emotion to it. Even though his eyes held unspoken challenge, they were like dirty, lavender windows on a warehouse. Empty. Slender Asian eyes with that graceful tilt. Eyes that only knew sadness and anger, leeching emotion from his face. I'd never met anyone with eyes like that before. There was only person I could think with eyes somewhere near similar. Edward. Edward, the assassin, and his dead, emotionless eyes. Even this man hadn't reached that level of coldness. After thinking of the boy's eyes, it made me wonder. Maybe I'd underestimated the horrors of flowers and irate floral customers. 

"Let's get a nice arrangement, one to distract us from Jean Claude's roses." I turned to look at the others. Nathaniel and Jason nodded eagerly. Those two must just love shopping. No matter what it was for.

"Zane," I heard Cherry saying warningly. I turned to see Zane glaring down the blonde florist, who was glaring back at him hostily. They were nearly the same height, eyes pinning each other. I was not going to begrudge Cherry a little romance while we were in Japan. Besides, he was a florist. There were more dangerous professions. And if you asked me, they seemed a little on the feminine side. More than likely no danger there.

"Zane, get over here," I said quietly. Zane turned to look at me, his power leaking into the air.

"Zane, leave him alone, and get over here," I repeated lowly. Zane looked back at the blonde one last time, snarled in the man's face, and stepped over to me. The blonde glared after him as Cherry tried to reclaim his attention and calm him down. 

"I don't like him," Zane grumbled to me. "He smells of blood." 

I blinked at the blonde. Blood? Why would a florist be involved with blood? He was already back to flirting with Cherry, seeming perfectly innocent. Maybe he pricked himself on a thorn?

The horrors of flowers. 

"Zane, help me pick out an arrangement," I changed the subject. He nodded and turned to the flowers. The brunette spoke when Kannon explained I wanted an arrangement.

"Any specific flowers you want in it?"

"No roses," was my only requirement. "Try bright flowers that smell good."

The brunette nodded and went to work, dark chocolate color hair falling forward around his forehead and pulling out flat, wide, green leaves to provide a background. Kannon shifted from foot to foot, watching. 

"I like those." Nathaniel pointed out dark violet irises. The brunette gleefully added them. 

"And those ones." Jason pointed to some small, cornflower blue flowers that bloomed in the shapes of stars. They joined the assortment. In the end, the assortment wasn't necessarily bright, but it was lovely. Dark green leaves framed dark violets and blues, accented by some red flowers with one flat, plastic looking petal and a long, yellow stamen. White, circular, lantern-shaped flowers growing on delicate stems like bluebells dangled around the edge of the arrangement. Yellow, bird-like flowers perched throughout. It looked exotic, reminding me of a jungle.

"Oooo, I like it," Cherry said in admiration, her fingers playing with the top hem of the blonde's apron. He grinned ruefully and whispered something in her ear.

"It's nice." I nodded and smiled at the young flower artist. He blushed and ducked his head. It was refreshing to see a young man who was so honest and innocent. After being around Jean Claude, Jason, and Nathaniel. That was what drew me to Richard. Smart, honest, and just so human. The perfect boyscout. That only snag was that he wasn't human. Or I'd have married him by now. I nearly had. Until I had seen him eat Marcus. That had been too much for me. The final proof of how not human he was. 

Why was I being so picky? Well, sure, I could imagine coming home to Richard everyday after a long night of raising zombies, and he had eaten a few people. I'm sure we'd have interesting stories to share. Yeah, and the Toothfairy was my accountant. 

Nathaniel took the arrangement in his arms, admiring the colors and Kannon helped me pay for it. I glanced once more at the redhead, who gave me the same measuring look, dark red locks brushing his cheeks. The rest of his hair was relatively short, just those two long locks on each side of his face.

"Cherry." I looked away. Cherry looked at me from just a few inches from the blonde's face. She whispered something in Japanese to him and he grinned. Trust Cherry to have learned just a few phrases out of the ordinary.

"Let's go," I called, offered a nod back over my shoulder at the golden-haired boy behind the register. The boy and the brunette called goodbyes after Kannon and we answered them properly. I looked back at them, honest smiles on the two younger faces, a seductive smile from the blonde after Cherry that reminded me of Jean Claude. And that blank look from the last. I walked out.

"So, Cherry," Zane rumbled. "Seeking a human lover?"

"None of your business, Zane," Cherry grumbled back. 

"Can you be careful enough?" Zane pressed. "Not scratch him once?"

"I said shut up, Zane!" Cherry yelled. 

"Zane, Cherry, that's enough," I snapped. "Don't make a scene in the middle of Tokyo."

Kannon smirked, the other two just grinning. 

"Asher is going to wake soon," I warned. He didn't sleep till full dark like most vampires.

"Asher?" Kannon raised an eyebrow.

We hurried back to the hotel, running up to Jason's room. No telling what Asher might do if he woke up alone in a strange location. 

"Who is this Asher?" Kannon asked as Jason unlocked his door. 

Kannon blinked at the golden-haired man standing with his back to us in a coffin in the center of the room. He had obviously just woken. Asher turned his head, wearing a loose, white shirt that pooled like Nathaniel's at his forearms and waist. He had turned his head over his right shoulder, his tempered gold hair concealing the right side of his face, revealing only the perfect left half. His glowing, light blue eyes, so pale they were almost white, ran over us in turn, resting on me before stopping on Kannon.

He slowly stepped out of the coffin, his back still toward us, black trousers whispering against his skin as he slowly turned to face us. Vamps. They always have to make a flashy entrance. 

"I see we have a guest," he said, walking toward us. His hair still fell forward, covering the marred side of his face. I could feel Kannon's power rise, crawling across my skin. 

"Asher, this is Kannon, he's a guide sent by the Master of Tokyo," I explained.

"Is that so?" Asher gave a small grin without flashing fang. Only the older vampires had mastered that technique. Often that's how you can tell the difference. But first you have to figure out who's a vamp. Kannon had unconsciously bared his teeth, taking one small step back. Even werefoxes could tell a master vamp when they felt one. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," Asher said pleasantly. "Welcome to our fold, Kannon."

Kannon's power didn't subside; he obviously wasn't convinced. 

"Let's head back to my room," I suggested to break the tension. "Kannon can tell us more about Japan."

"Yes, let's." Nathaniel nodded. 

"And I get no succor?" Asher asked. He hadn't fed in a little over twenty-four hours. Of course he'd be hungry. 

"I'll rejoin you." Jason looked to us and stepped forward, tugging at the neck of his sweater.

"Jason." I never liked the idea that he was a meal on legs for the vampires. But that's why I'd ended up bringing the group I had. None of them objected to being sucked on.

"Hey." Jason grinned back at me. "It's one of the reasons I'm along."

I bit my lip as Asher turned to him. I quickly herded everyone out of the room and back to mine.


	5. Chapter 5

Warnings: Butchering of the Japanese language 

Chapter 5. 

Kannon sat on the edge of the couch, rolling a small white ball through his fingers. Where it had come from, I had no idea. It rolled through his fingers like it was stuck to his hand somehow, and would never fall off. 

"We kitsune have been around for a long time," he mused. "We've been here as long as people have."

"So what is the standing of the kitsune?" I asked, sipping coffee that room service delivered. "Do you work with the vampires, or against them?"

Kannon turned his head toward me, gold eye peering through strands of fox-colored hair.

"We work with them, to a degree. We are not their slaves, but here in Japan, none of us are legal citizens, and we all need each other for help. Not to say we don't war against each other from time to time." He smiled at the last sentence.

"So you have werewolves?" Cherry asked.

"Most of them are foreigners." Kannon twirled the ball through his fingers again. "The native tribes are the Kitsune, foxes; the Saru, monkies; the Tora, tigers; and the cranes, the Tsuru."

"There are bird weres?" I was surprised to hear this. It reminded me of a certain swan skin I had on my wall. It had come not from a shape shifter, but a man under a curse. Richard thought it was a sick and twisted tribute to the man who had endangered all of our lives. I thought it was more than he deserved. 

Kannon nodded. "They tend to keep to themselves. Among the other tribes, we generally work together. Since the werewolves and the wererats have made their presence known we include them too. The vampires look upon themselves as the keepers of the ancient ways, and look upon us the same as they did in the olden days. They care not so much for the newer breeds, as they were not well known in the ancient days."

"So the kitsune have always been errand boys and trickers?" I asked, trying to dish on him a little.

"Exactly," he grinned, baring the sharp little teeth again. "The Tsuru are messengers and more like priests. The Saru are the armies the vampires like to use. The Tora are more like your werewolves, pulled to heel only with a fight."

"If the vampires are like the ancients, then they have samurai?" Nathaniel asked in interest.

"Of course." Kannon tossed the ball up and down. "Often only the finest samurai were accepted as vampires back in the day. The Japanese appreciate honor, and our country is not as big as yours. We cannot support as big a community. So Japan's vampires are more choosy for survival."

"I'd like to meet real samurai," Nathaniel said excitedly. "Anita?"

"Not if I can help it." I shook my head at him. "This trip is not supposed to be about vampires, Nathaniel. It's a break from all of that."

"You ooze danger, Anita," Zane mumbled from the other side of the couch. "It's a lure vampires and shape shifters can't seem to resist."

"Bullshit," I laughed. "You haven't met Edward."

If anyone oozed danger, it was Edward. Vampires called me the Executioner. They may as well call Edward, Death. He had been a bounty hunter that got bored killing humans. He often gave me my newest toys, and was the only person I'd ever seen use a flamethrower on a vamp. Lately, we've gotten to thinking I might actually stand a chance if a showdown was called between us. He had once been offered a contract on my life and turned it down. He said it was because I was his friend. Yeah, right. He admitted later it was simply more interesting trying to keep me alive. He got to kill more people if he helped me. Taking the job, he only got to kill me. Reassuring, isn't it? But I could always count on him. When the going gets tough, the tough get going. When the shit hits the fan, the tough call Edward.

"I'd like to meet this Edward." Zane licked his lips. 

"If you're meeting with Edward, you won't live to tell the tale, no matter how super werekitty you are," I chuckled. 

"Would you like to go sightseeing tomorrow?" Kannon asked, changing the subject like a good boy. "I can get us a car."

"Yes!" Nathaniel nodded eagerly. "Can we go to Mount Fuji?"

Kannon yipped in delight. "That's an interesting drive, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel smiled back at him, close lipped, which only made him look seductive. Kannon returned the smile with a tilt of his head. 

There was a knock on the door, and Asher entered cautiously, checking if I was aiming to blow his head off. How quickly they learn. Cautiously, yet he seemed to just float into the room as if he were the pillar of confidence. Maybe I was the only one that noticed his quick glance at me for a weapon.

Kannon's back went rigid and he turned to look at Asher. Asher was flushed with full color again, looking almost alive. Nathaniel wasn't as impressed. He'd seen it before.

"Kannon, are there nightclubs around here?" he asked eagerly. Kannon nodded back to him, looking at the vampire. 

"Do not fear, little fox." Asher smiled. "If there are nightclubs, why do we not get a taste of culture? I've missed out on the day's adventures."

I really didn't want them heading to a nightclub. But Asher was right. He wasn't going to get to enjoy Japan like the rest of us. 

"All right." I sighed. "You can go to a nightclub."

Nathaniel grinned at me, followed by Kannon.

"Ahh, not such a stick in the mud, are we, Anita?" Asher asked, seeming amused. The phone rang and we all looked at it. Who in the world could be calling?

"Hello?" I answered, and thought frantically for what Japanese folk said. King Kong wa?

"Anita," said the voice at the other end. I gasped.

"Edward?" I gripped the phone. "How the HELL did you get this number?"

Edward chuckled on the other end of the line. "Are you beginning to doubt me already?"

"I'm in fricking JAPAN!" I yelled. I could hear the shape shifters moving behind me and I turned to give them a warning look.

"I know," Edward said mysteriously. For some reason the Mission Impossible theme ran through my head. He was probably hanging from some thread right outside my window.

"I thought it fair to warn you," Edward continued. "I got notified of another hit."

"On who?" I gripped the phone. Richard? Jean Claude? Larry? Dolph? Burt? Names ran through my head like mad. Well, I might not miss Burt so much. If only he wasn't so good with money. 

"Guess, Anita," Edward chuckled. "It's right up your alley."

I turned to look at the assorted folk. "Zane, go get Jason."

Zane nodded, serious at my tone, and left the room.

"Is there a problem?" Asher asked, and I waved for him not to speak.

"Don't fricking play games, Edward!" I snapped. "Tell me!"

"It's you again, Anita," Edward laughed. "Who have you pissed off this time?"

"While I'm in Japan?" I demanded. 

"Precisely," he answered. "So, talk. Who have you pissed off in Japan?"

I turned to glare at Kannon, who lifted his eyebrows at me.

"Hold on one moment, Edward."

"I'm not staying on," Edward declined. "Just be careful. Life is so much more fun with you alive. Besides, you still owe me a favor. And I want you there so I can call it."

"Of course." I nodded as if he could see me. "I'm always careful."

Bullshit. And he knew it. 

"They want you in the next forty-eight hours, Anita," Edward added and I got dialtone.

Great, just great. Well, all I had to do was stay alive for two days. Riiight. My vacation was two weeks long. I didn't think they'd only try for two days. 

"Kannon." I hung up the phone. "Who have you been speaking to?"

Kannon frowned. "Just you."

"Who else?" I walked toward him. I watched his face get angry. 

"No one else for today," he answered through clenched teeth.

"Anita, talk to us," Cherry said worriedly.

"All right, there's another contract on my life," I snapped. "Ta-dah!"

"Anita, you aren't afraid, are you?" Asher asked. I smiled at him.

"Do I look like I'm afraid?" I asked. "I'm fricking pissed! How am I gonna enjoy my vacation now?"

"Priorities." Asher nodded with a slow smile.

"I didn't want to have to do any killing in a foreign country," I said bitchily. "How's that for international relations?"

"Do you think they'll send ninja?" Nathaniel asked, and Zane opened the door, Jason following after him. 

Jason had a goofy grin on his face, and yawned sleepily. His huge sweater covered any bite marks Asher might have left. If they hadn't healed already. Seeing Jason safe, I repressed the urge to laugh and lost.

"Ninja." I slammed my fist on the counter, laughing. "Another thing to add to my list."

No one else laughed. 

"I was serious." Nathaniel frowned. 

"And our fights will be subtitled," I laughed, pointing at Kannon. "Translated by him!"

"Anita," Asher said softly.

"I'm not losing it." I pulled my laughter into check. "It was funny. It's okay to laugh in times of tension."

Zane was the only one who chuckled. Kannon dropped to his knees, pressing his hands to the floor and his forehead to his hands.

"Forgive me, Anita-san," he mumbled into the floor. "I had no part in this."

"Get up," I grumbled. "I'm not a shogun or anything."

Kannon did get up, looking at me apologetically. "I swear to you, I have no part in this. I am only to be your guide."

"And you said in the beginning we couldn't trust you," I reminded him.

"You're right." he nodded. "You can't. We're tricksters. But kitsune do not murder."

"Then you just got thrown into the line of fire," I told him. "Go ahead home. I don't need your tribe mad at me, or the Master of Tokyo."

"I told you about honor," Kannon answered. "I'm staying."

"You're not alone in this, ma petite," Asher said. "That is why we are here."

I could have smacked Asher. Hearing Jean Claude's pet name for me was almost too much to bear at the moment. They were both French bastards. 

"Right." I nodded. "And we were going clubbing, right?"

"Do you think that's a good idea–" Kannon cut off under my look.

"It's just hitmen, Kannon," I told him. "And they're not ruining my vacation."

I let everyone change, or refresh, and Cherry tried to talk me into wearing the pants I'd bought earlier. After she cajoled me into trying them on, I liked the look of them. Like a second skin, but no place to hide a gun. She produced a long but thin thigh-length leather jacket from her own wardrobe to cover any weapons I might wear. I was trying to protest dressing too sluttily, but she was coming up with things to counter my protests. Nurses think on their feet. 

I refused to wear the penguin shirt, despite her protests, and she compromised on a red satin top that basically looked like a tank top, but looser. I donned my machete, hiding the handle under my hair, and felt safer already. My knives went on my arms, followed by the Browning under my left arm and the Firestar in the Uncle Mike's inner pants holster in the back waistband of the pants. 

Looking at my outfit in the mirror, you couldn't see any weapons. I was suitably impressed. A little lipstick, and a small pair of dainty, black boots finished the outfit. I was not going to wear high heels if an assassin came after me. I might trip and break my own neck and do the job for them. I never liked doing things the easy way. 

Dressed for a club, I felt younger, not that I was really old. You're only as old as you feel. I often felt like I was 102. But now I felt like I was 20. I guess clothes are sort of for play. 

"I like, Anita." Asher smiled to see my outfit as I stepped out. Jason had put on the new outfit he bought earlier. Cherry and Zane were the same, and Nathaniel made me want to through a blanket over him and drag him back into the room to hide him. The pants from the knees down were normal. From the knees up, they were just horizontal straps till they grew smaller in width to just up the sides of his hips, showing strips of pale flesh. The straps continued up his sides, growing larger again, meeting in a small strip down the center of his chest to end in a collar around his neck. There were no sleeves. I didn't know if showing that much skin was allowed in public. Around other people who might see. 

Kannon was still dressed the same, he had no other clothes to change too. Asher wore a black and gold-filigreed vest buttoned up the front over a white shirt. Lace poofed at the wrists and in the front of the vest. Under that was what looked like gray riding pants that ended in what looked like black riding boots. 

"Nathaniel," I sighed.

"Don't you like it?" He grinned. 

"Like an ulcer," I agreed. You could live with it, but it annoyed the hell out of you.

Kannon grinned. "Let's go. Anita, you in the middle."

"I'll take the back," Asher offered. I sighed. They were intent on protecting me. Monkey in the middle. 

We stepped out into the Japanese night, and Kannon led us down the street. As expected, we drew many stares. Well, with this many people watching, I was sure no assassin was going to try for me. 

Zane stopped up short, sniffing at the air. Spotting this, Jason started working his wolfy sense of smell. 

"What is it?" I asked.

"Familiar," Zane rumbled. "Faint."

"I smell it too." Jason looked around.

"Is it dangerous?" I asked. "We met a lot of people today."

"No, it's different, out of place," Kannon agreed. "It doesn't belong here."

"Well, if it's faint, then it doesn't matter to us, does it?" I asked, pushing forward. Kannon scanned the street one last time and led on. Zane kept doing the rabbit nose thing all the way to the club Kannon stopped in front of. 

"As good as any." He grinned, opening the door with a gentlemanly sweep of his hand. I stepped into heat and loud, fast music. The light wasn't the best, and crowded with people. Older generation and younger alike. I found that kind of surprising. Parents went out and played on the kids' playgrounds here in Japan. I thought that was kind of cool. But you could generally tell them apart by their clothes. The younger generation dressed like us, while the older generation leaned more toward suits. 

Who had more taste here? Looking at some of the clothes the older generation wore, I wasn't too sure. 

"Oooo." Nathaniel took Cherry's hand. "It beckons."

He pulled her toward the dance floor, and Cherry grinned back at us over her shoulder. They looked perfect together.


	6. Chapter 6

Warnings: Skimpy clothes and ignorance of foreign customs

Chapter 6. 

Jason watched Cherry leave almost mournfully, till he spotted some girls by the bar. 

"They're splitting up," I mumbled to Asher.

"Indeed." Asher nodded, letting his hair fall forward more in a shining wave of gold. "But you are the one under threat, Anita. And they can handle whatever is thrown at them."

I bit my lip. That was true, but I was their Nimir-ra. Their leader. It was my duty to watch out for them. Jason too, who was now trying to flirt with some Japanese girls who were responsive, despite the language barrier.

Kannon grinned, cocking his head. "I will be watching."

He turned and tossed his head, flinging the hair out of his eyes and moving out toward the dance floor. Zane was sniffing the club, licking his lips.

"Remember the rules, Zane," I reminded him. Zane looked to me and laughed.

"You are no fun," he snorted, and headed over toward Jason. I turned to look at Asher, looking up at his half-covered face.

"Do you dance to techno?" I asked with a grin.

"Techno." Asher shifted a little uncomfortably. "When in Japan...do as they do."

I had to smile. A vampire over 300 years dancing to techno. This I wanted to see.

"May I have this dance?" I asked. Asher looked at me almost disbelievingly. 

"Come on, stick in the mud." I threw his phrase back at him. "I'm wearing these slut pants, so you gotta dance."

He laughed, and it was nearly like Jean Claude's, almost a caress along my skin. I shivered.

"I would be honored." He offered his arm. "Nice "slut" pants."

"Don't get ideas." I took his arm and walked toward the edge of the dance floor.

I wouldn't feel comfortable in the slew of bodies. Someone could shove a knife under my ribs, and the other dancers would probably keep me standing. Staying safely to the edge, keeping a reactionary gap around me, I unhooked my arm from Asher's and looked at him expectantly.

"Let's see it, fangs." I grinned. He chuckled and titled his head, feet trying to get a feel for the fast beat. He still looked like he wanted to waltz or something. I felt someone bump against my back and turned quickly, seeing Nathaniel wink at me with Cherry against him. 

"Fancy meeting you here?" he asked with a grin. Asher suddenly turned his head from trying to dance to look at the door. A man in a business suit had walked in. Every hair was in place, one man and one woman following him. The man looked like your typical bodyguard in a suit. She was a geisha.

He was Japanese with a wide jaw, giving him a stern look. His hair looked short, dark, but streaked with gray, and I saw the small ponytail on the back of his head when he glanced at his companions. He wasn't very tall, but his gaze pierced. He eyes swept the club to land on Asher and stayed. 

"Asher," I started, and tried to gulp on the wave of power that swept over me. Part of it was Asher. The rest was someone else. And I had a good idea who. It was nearly smothering. 

Nathaniel pressed up against my shoulder blade, and I pushed my hand back to feel him grab at it.

The Japanese man walked up to us, eyes never leaving Asher, and my estimate on his age went higher and higher. He wasn't much taller than me, and he was scaring the living hell out of me.

"The Master of Tokyo, I take it," Asher said in a power rich voice. The Master of Tokyo tilted his head.

"You are correct." His English was more heavily accented. About 600 years. Over. I could tell why his power was leaking out all over the place. He was trying to intimidate Asher. He intimidated me.

"This is Anita Blake," Asher politely introduced me and those dark eyes turned to me. 

"Blake...san." he nodded. I clumsily tried to nod back. The Master of Tokyo came to nightclubs?

"I have heard tales," he said clearly. "America's feared Executioner."

"On vacation," I said firmly back. "And that's all."

"A vacation that requires a master vampire to accompany you," the Master of Tokyo continued smoothly. 

"Such was chosen for me by the Master of St Louis," I answered. "Just in case some might try to idlely test those tales."

He smiled, a measured smile. I saw Kannon walking up behind and the two with the Master turned to look at him. He froze.

"Hai, Blake-san." He tried to look me in the eyes. I looked back at him, looking into those depths, feeling the edge of the pull, and slipping past it to look into normal eyes. He was startled, but hid it well. He grinned.

"I am Fujiwara no Sanesuke," he said finally. "The Master of Tokyo. I bid you welcome, Blake-san."

"It is nice to be welcomed, Fujiwara-san," I answered back evenly. I had come to figure out 'san' was respectful. Wasn't everyone a 'san' in those samurai movies?

Sanesuke continued. "It is customary, in Japan, to bring a gift for those you visit."

I blinked at him. What was he looking for? He hadn't tracked me down to this club just to beg for a trinket.

"I was not aware of your customs," I answered. What do you give a 600+ year old vampire? Eggbeater? Microwave? For those late night, frozen snacks?

Sanesuke looked past me, eyes passing over Nathaniel and Cherry. "As I have allowed you to bring a master vampire into my city, I think it only fair to receive something in return."

"Ask of me then," Asher came to my defense.

"Ah, but you come here with Blake-san. Not she with you." Sanesuke looked back at him.

"May I make a request?" I asked.

"A request?" Sanesuke smoothly returned his onyx gaze to me. "And it is?"

"I can taste you in the back of my throat like pudding that won't go down." I gulped. "I'm impressed. May I ask you to back off a little?"

He looked genuinely surprised, but I felt the power vanish like a wind does with the slamming of a door.

"Granted." He smiled without showing fang. Asher eased down on his own presence. The air suddenly felt ten degrees cooler, making me shiver.

"Very interesting," he remarked, rubbing his chin with the side of a finger. He didn't wear any rings, I noticed. "Now, I have granted you two requests, Blake-san."

I stared back at him. He wanted something. It was too obvious. He had walked in here with it in mind.

"What is it you want?" I asked. Sanesuke looked me right in the eye. 

"You assume I already have a desire?" 

"Look, I can go buy you a blender, but I'm sure that's not what you want. So come out and say it."

He chuckled. "I gave you Kannon. One of mine."

Now I understood his glance over the pard. That bastard. I bit back the urge to hiss a curse at him. You just don't tell 600 year old vampires to fuck off.

"You can have him back," I said slowly.

"You refuse my hospitality?"

I was digging myself deeper and deeper. When had I gotten the shovel? If I refused his hospitality, he could try to make me leave. I had two weeks and I intended to enjoy them. Why were vampires always out to ruin my happiness? There was something to be said about the old stake and cross days. 

"No, I do not," I answered firmly. Zane and Jason had joined us. I could feel them at my back. Kannon was still standing where he was, helplessly looking at the two bodyguards. The male, he was a shape shifter. I wasn't sure what kind. But he was built wide, with a huge jaw and slicked back hair. His dark charcoal suit had been tailored and it still seemed to be tested not to rip and tear at the seams. 

The geisha, now she was a vampire. And she was stunning. A perfect doll. Her skin was pale as milk; small, cupid's bow lips like blood red petals, and large, dark, polished onyx eyes. Her kimono was shades of pale lavender, with gold and jade trinkets sparkling and dangling in her jet hair, coiffed and shaped to perfection. I couldn't read her very well. She had her power wrapped up tightly, as if hiding in the shadow of the Master of the City's power. Subservient. Like the traditional geisha. Beautiful, silent. And in this case, deadly as the plague. I started guessing around a hundred years. 

Sanesuke smiled. "I must admit, you impress me, Blake-san. It is rude to arrive without a gift, and I see these are yours. I will lay no claim to them."

So they did have honor. Surprise, surprise. 

"Instead, may I make a request of you?"

I observed him a few moments, trying to get a feel for what he might ask, but there was nothing. "Of course."

"As you own werecats, there is a small group of werecats, like yours, in Tokyo. They elude my requests to meet. Bring them to me. And they will be your gift."

"What's the catch?" I asked.

"None." He still smiled pleasantly. "Nothing that you cannot handle with your experience. Just bring them to me. Alive. Kannon will be able to contact me when you have them."

I glanced at Kannon. His golden eyes looked surprised. He nodded. Sanesuke wasn't lying. Shape shifters can smell a lie. 

"Are you going to kill them?" I asked.

"Of course not." Sanesuke shook his head smoothly. "Merely an effort on your part. For me."

He just wanted to see me jump through hoops? I didn't think so. But if he didn't want the werecats dead, and with what Kannon had said, I could almost believe him. But there had to be a catch. There always was. 

"Do you accept?"

I looked back at the Master of Tokyo. "Once I round them up for you, that's it. You leave me and mine alone. Asher is mine, Jason is mine. I am Nimir-ra, the pard is mine."

I wasn't sure what Asher would think of being called mine. He was a master and a power in his own right. But he made no protest. Sanesuke seemed genuinely pleased by my answer. 

"Agreed." He smiled with a small nod. 

"Good." I nodded politely back. 

"Good evening to you, Blake-san."

He stepped backward from me with a small bow, never taking his eyes from me. Smart. Never turn your back that close. And never remove your eyes. Sanesuke stepped back a few more steps beyond his bodyguards, and Kannon backed away to make room. Sanesuke looked at him a moment, then turned and walked out with his bodyguards at his back. 

"There must be a catch," Asher said softly, almost lost in the music. Scary, how he thought like me. Or was I thinking like a vampire?

Kannon walked over to us, glancing back over his shoulder at the door. 

"He's old." I looked to Kannon. Kannon nodded back to me, golden eyes serious. 

"He was the Chancellor back in the reign of the Fujiwara clan. No man but the Emperor held greater power than he."

I shivered. Even human, Sanesuke would have been someone to reckon with. Feudal. Old fashioned Samurai honor. All I could lean on was that honor. 

"Kannon, do you know these wereleopards?" I asked, looking at him carefully. 

Kannon shifted, folding his arms across his chest, black-gloved hands gripping the pale flesh of his arms as if trying to draw comfort from himself. 

"I've met them," he admitted. "They're wanderers. They won't see Sanesuke-sama or us because they do not plan to stay. But Sanesuke-sama is very...governmental?" 

I nodded. "So what do you think he wants with them?"

Kannon looked down at his feet, red-orange hair falling into his eyes. "There was been very...brutal murders in town. About the time they arrived. Sanesuke-sama thinks they may be responsible."

"I see," I sighed.

"I apologize, Anita." Asher turned at my side. "I should not have come."

"Asher, you're here. Shut up."

I wasn't in a mood to be comforting. Asher gave me a considering look.

"I'm yours?" he asked softly. 

"I'd kill for you, Asher." I looked at his single bared pale blue eye. "That qualifies. Doesn't it?"

Asher looked back at me with the look Jean Claude sometimes gave me. I felt that pull, Jean Claude's pull, toward Asher. I wanted to take him into my arms and kiss his eyelids. To call him _mon chardonneret_. In English it sounded funny. My goldfinch. But it was the nickname Jean Claude had used for him, and being wrapped up in Jean Claude's power like I was, it seemed natural to me. But he had made me promise never to call him that. Not unless I meant it. Sometimes, I think I did. Or that might just have been Jean Claude's emotions. 

I shivered, and he lay a gentle hand on my shoulder. I leaned my head over to rest my cheek against the warm flesh. Warmth stolen from Jason. 

"You are not alone, Anita." He let the fingers of his other hand trail my cheek. 

"We're here for you, Anita." Jason pressed in against me, his chin sliding onto my other shoulder. I lifted my free hand to stoke the side of his face. Seeing I was in a touching mood, the leopards moved in around me, each touching me in some way. They were scared too. They depended on me. God help me to be strong enough. 

I'd come to question whether God loved me any longer. I'd killed too many. I was a necromancer, and everywhere I turned, everyone believed I was forsaken by God. Until I had entered that pentagram that held a demon. To save Richard's mother. That ultimate proof God still considered me his had been an incredible booster. Leading Richard's mother out of the pentagram, chanting a Christmas psalm in the face of a demon and holding it at bay, never had I been so filled by the power of God. Help me be strong enough.

I felt a set of fingers stroke my cheek and opened my eyes to see Kannon looking at me with drowning molten gold eyes, as if he were in rapture. His lips were parted, and I could almost hear his breath whistle between them. I realized finally that in remembering the power of God, I was leaking power. It had curled around the others, drawing them toward me. Even Kannon. Whom I had never shared the munin with. It was warm, like home, in Richard's arms, Jean Claude's arms...my mother's arms. Mine. Kannon had just joined the fold.


	7. Chapter 7

Warnings: Stalking without use of a phone and blood

Chapter 7. 

I closed off the power, closing shields I'd let slip, drawing it back into myself. Nathaniel was touching my leg, higher than I liked. I shifted away from him and I felt him lift his hand away. I slowly peeled myself from them like stepping out of a mosaic. As if they'd collapse without me there, missing a keystone. But they didn't. They just looked at me with luminous eyes in the dim light of the club. 

"Okay," I said finally, turning to face them. "My night's shot. I just want to sleep now."

Although meeting the Master of Tokyo wasn't as horrible as meeting other masters, it hadn't been fun. The other masters had wanted to touch us, taste us, terrify us. Most of those were dead. Sanesuke had one thing going for him. He hadn't tried to touch me. It almost felt strange to have a master treat me so...normally. He'd spoken to me as if I were a human being instead of someone's pet. 

The others looked at me, torn between wanting to stay and wanting to go with me. I was going with or without them. I just wanted to curl up in a bed with a certain stuffed penguin I knew. Asher stepped toward me, triggering the others to follow him. We left the heat of the club behind us as Kannon led the way, leaping out in front of me defensively. 

We stepped out into the night, which almost felt chilly after the heat of the club. Jason's nose wrinkled as he sniffed the air. 

"Perfume," he muttered.

"What perfume?" I asked, thinking of the geisha.

"Like before, it's still here." Jason lifted his face, nose in the air like a dog. Err, wolf. 

"Like before? When before?"

If that one smell had made enough of an impression for them to sniff it out among all the other scents, I figured it had to be important. Jason shook his head and grinned at me. 

But the other lycanthropes were sniffing too. Great, now all I needed was several leashes and a pooper scooper. Good furries, you don't need to sniff everything on our little walk. Don't you dare mark that post, Zane! 

I sighed and kept walking, pulling the entourage with me like they were connected to me with string. I glanced at my watch. It was near ten thirty. Jet lag. I'd only gotten that small nap on the plane in a little over twenty-four hours. It was daytime in the states, which is probably why I was tired. Most of my work was during darkness. I had to readjust my body clock. 

We passed a small Photoshop when Zane leaned down to whisper to me from behind.

"We're being followed."

I tried not to react. "By who?"

"Can't see them, but it's that smell. It's following us."

"From where?" 

"I can't pinpoint it."

Haunted by perfume. I could imagine the geisha's face, and I reached out, sending out small tendrils of power. I reached out with that sense I have. Magic, if that word works for you. It doesn't for me. I reached out with that power that let me raise the dead, mix with werewolves, and deal with vampires. I touched Asher, and felt his acknowledgement, then reached further, still walking. Nothing. Just us, and human beings, going about their nightly business on the streets. Kannon turned his face back over his shoulder. He gave me an inquisitive look, having felt me reach out. Pulling my power back into myself, I moved my eyes to look around, to the side, up, to the side, and back the other way. I saw his lips part in wordless comprehension. He turned back to face forward. Smart. Well, he was a fox after all.

I heard Zane's feet scuffle to a stop behind me, and I turned to look at him. Cherry, Jason, and Asher all stopped behind him, their eyes telling them they were as aware as I was. Zane snarled, a baring of teeth, and took off at a trot into a dark alleyway to our left. 

"Zane!" I snapped. Not the brightest crayon in the box, but he was angry. I could feel his rise of power as he dashed into the alleyway. Shit. Pissed off werekitty in dark alleyway couldn't be good.

"Zane!" I hurried after him, my hand falling on the butt of the Browning. I was not about to step into a dark alleyway unprepared. I heard a scuffle ahead and Zane's deep rumbling growl in the moon-frosted shadows.

"Zane," I said with a quieter voice. Cherry glided up behind me, and I was sure the others were behind her. I heard the sound of something whipping through the air. There was a surprised yelp followed by an outraged snarl. I dashed forward. If Zane was attacking someone, I had to stop him.

"Zane!" I yelled in warning and then the light cast of the moon finally outlined him in the shadows. He was half kneeling, arms pressed to his body, and he was snapping his head from side to side as if trying to bite at something on his shoulders. Out came the Browning. Something was attacking Zane. Moonlight glinted in thin lines across the alleyway like a spider's web. Zane was right in the middle of it. Great, we had giant spiders living in the alleyways of Japan? Snagging unsuspecting passersby? And I thought Godzilla stomping Tokyo was farfetched. 

"Zane, are you okay?" I asked, the Browning pointed wherever my eyes went. I heard him snarl in anger. 

"Zane," Cherry breathed behind me. 

"Zane?" Nathaniel whimpered from behind me. 

"Wires," Zane said gruffly, as if embarrassed. "I'm wrapped in them."

"Wires?" My eyebrows lifted. Had Zane run into someone's laundry lines? 

"That man," Zane's voice trickled from the shadows. "Flowers."

Flowers_. I don't like him. He smells of blood._ My eyes darted up, scanning the rooftops on either side of us. That's a general mistake most humans did. They didn't look up. It was a natural species deficiency. Helped keep the population numbers down. 

"Youji?" I heard Cherry ask softly, sniffing. Youji? What the hell was that? Food? What was she doing thinking about that at a time like this? It was so unlike her.

Seeing nothing along the rooftops, I edged closer to Zane to see how to get him untangled. 

"Let me go first, Anita." Jason pushed up by my side. I nodded, and he stepped toward the snared wereleopard. Cherry was watching the rooftops, looking back and forth. Jason stepped right up to Zane, and felt for the wires.

"You got yourself good and tied up there, Zane," I heard him say and I could tell by his tone he was smirking. 

"Fuck you," Zane snarled.

"I'm so scared," Jason chuckled, tugging on the wires. 

"Youji!" Cherry called in the alleyway, making me jump. I glared at her. I barely heard the sound of something whistling through the air and I twisted to the left, before feeling a sharp thump to my spine. Everyone reacted, heads darting up toward the building I was standing against. A slight shadow vanished from the edge of the building. 

"Anita." Asher had one hand on my arm, the other going to my back. "Hold still."

I felt him tug, and pull something from me. I turned to look and saw him holding an arrow. My eyes widened. It hadn't hurt...but I was still standing. Asher's hand patted my back, pressing the machete against my spine. My machete. The arrow had struck the sheath of my machete. My God! Robin Hood was out to kill me! And we all thought he was so merry. Well, maybe that was just his men.

The Browning was sweeping the edge of the roof when I heard something jar metal. Kannon had jumped onto a metal dumpster in a crouch, looking up at the roof. 

"Kannon, wait," I hissed. Great, he was going to get himself killed. Zane yowled, sounding almost like a deep, panther scream, darting my eyes to him. He had thrown his head back, bent legs shaking as I heard a scritching sound. Metal rubbing metal. Jason jerked on a wire, hissing as it cut into his fingers. 

"Bastard! Bastard!" Zane began yelling, thrashing in the wires. 

"Zane! Stop struggling!" I hissed angrily. The smell of blood had already tinged the air. I heard a scrabbling sound and saw Kannon was climbing the wall. Actually climbing a smooth, brick, vertical wall. Somehow he was sticking to it, fingers splayed like claws. 

"Anita, get out of here," Asher breathed at my side. Zane yowled again and I heard Jason's curses. Nathaniel brushed past me to help them. 

"I'm not leaving." I looked up at the roof again. "I can't."

"Anita," Asher said more urgently. 

"Fuck off, Asher!" I snapped. He was taken aback, taking a couple steps back from me. Okay, you can tell 300+ years old vampires to fuck off, but not often.

"Kannon! Get down!"

Kannon turned to look down at me, and I heard that whistling again. I threw myself aside, falling to the ground with gun pointing up. I fired at the shadow as the arrow pierced the flapping edge of my jacket. The sound was incredibly loud. 

I heard a yell from above, on the opposite side, and a figure leapt off of the adjacent building, jacket material billowing like bat's wings and the flash of metal in the moonlight. I turned my gun to that shape and saw Cherry suddenly appear in my line of fire.

"Cherry!" I had time to yell before that metal flashed and Cherry crumpled with a cry. I fired at the person with my arms up over my head and I heard the bullet ricochet off the far wall as the assassin darted to the side immediately after Cherry crumpled. The assassin darted smack into Asher. Pale fingers wrapped his throat, jerking the assailant off the ground. I rolled up quickly, hearing the leather rip. Nothing sounded closer to the sound of skin ripping than leather. 

I got back to my feet, gun pointing up with Cherry crying on the ground in front of me. Kannon leapt up over the roof edge as Zane and Jason unleashed a string of profanities. Moonlight lit the man Asher held enough for me to see the long dark trenchcoat and short, reddish hair. The assassin grabbed at Asher's hand with his free hand, drawing back the hand holding an old fashioned katana. He lifted the katana up above his head and Asher just watched him calmly. The katana stabbed forward and down, driving down through Asher's upper right chest, just before Asher looked the man in the eyes. The assassin limped, snared by the vampiric gaze. Never look into a vampire's eyes. They'll roll you and make you do and feel what they want, regardless if your opinion. I was immune to that by virtue of what I was, and Jean Claude's marks of power on me. In a way, I was tapped into his power. 

Asher's body had jerked to feel the blade enter, and now he looked at the upper half of the katana sticking out of his chest as if he didn't know how it got there. Still holding the assassin off the ground by one hand, he gripped the katana by the blade, and I watched him slowly pull it back out. Shit, that had to hurt like hell. 

I dropped into a crouch by Cherry as she held her shoulder to her body. The katana had nearly cleaved her shoulder in half, and the only thing stopping her whole right arm and shoulder from falling off was her holding in place. Flesh and bone was busily reknitting as Cherry sobbed on the pain. Her knit shirt was cut raggedly, and the right strap of her bra was cut, bearing her torn breast. I quickly pulled my jacket off, throwing it around her shoulders to cover her. Not that she would be embarrassed. I was embarrassed. Having breasts flopping around during the middle of a fight was a disturbing thought, even if they weren't mine. I'd leave that to the comic book heroes.

Asher's upper lip pulled back, showing fang, and that was the only admittance of pain he offered. Inch by inch of crimson-stained blade followed his hand till it came free with a jerk. He threw it aside and it clanged as it rebound off the wall to skid across the ground.

I heard a panicked cry from the rooftop the red-haired assassin had leapt from and saw another person leap off the roof. How many of them were there? 

I aimed the Browning at the figure leaping at Asher as the moon glinted off more metal. I fired, and the man cried out, thrown out of his leap and striking the ground ungracefully. The man in Asher's grasp flinched awake at the sound of the gunshot, his head tossing wildly. He quickly realized he no longer held his weapon, and averted his gaze to stay away from Asher's eyes. Smart. He caught on quickly. I watched him grab Asher's wrist with both of his hands and curl his legs up, hanging from Asher's hand completely. He kicked out with both feet at Asher's gut. Asher bowed under the blow, but his hold didn't release. The assassin choked loudly, slamming his knees against Asher in a wild attempt to escape the crushing fingers. 

The man I had shot wasn't moving, lying on his side near the wall. Shit. So much for not killing in a foreign country. I scanned the roof edge for anymore that might leap off like a clown car spilling clowns. 

Jason and Nathaniel had grabbed a hold of the wires even as it cut their hands, pulling down on whatever anchored them, and I watched the wires go slack, falling to the ground. 

Another figure dropped into our midst, landing in a crouch between me and Zane. The Browning centered on his head as the moon lit up white crosses amid the black clothes of this newest attacker. Something flashed in the dark before I could tell what it was. I felt a sharp sting as something bit into my forearm in several places down its length. Wire. Wire had wrapped my left arm, cutting into the skin, a few loops held back by the knife in its sheathe on my forearm. I felt a sharp jerk and stumbled forward, feeling the wires tighten, and I hastily readjusted the aim of the Browning. Jason tackled the last figure from behind, wrapping strong arms around the assassin from behind and jerking him back, pinning his arms to his body. 

"Shit!" I yelled to feel the wire bite at Jason's grab and felt blood start to run down my arm. The man was taller than Jason, making him an awkward victim to hold, and he appeared to know it. He smashed his head back into Jason's face and pushed up quickly, planting his feet on the ground. Jason snarled, nose bleeding, as he was nearly sent bending over backwards, still keeping his arms wrapped tightly. The man in his arms started to kick at the ground and choked on a cry, and I knew Jason was tightening his hold with the supernatural strength he possessed. 

I heard something heavy strike the dumpster again and the moonlight lit up patches of white clothing and bared legs as a smaller figure dropped from the edge of the roof behind me. The person landed on the top of the dumpster, rolling off of it to land steadily on their feet on the street, and I saw the shape of something large in this person's hands turn to point at me. A crossbow. There was that whistling sound of a projectile slicing the air and I knew I wouldn't be able to move in time.


	8. Chapter 8

Warnings: Blood, Weiß, and Violence

Chapter 8. 

Suddenly I was looking at Kannon's back in front of me, and I heard the meaty sound of the projectile striking flesh. Kannon clawed at his throat, something long and skinny protruding from it. I aimed at Crossbow as he/she turned to dash for the entrance of the alleyway, fleeing. Crossbow didn't get far. 

Crossbow ran right into a new figure silhouetted in the entrance to the alleyway that suddenly appeared. It was missing was the long cape and little pointy earhorns, so it couldn't be Batman. 

Power leaked into the alleyway, making me gasp. Centuries worth of power. Not quite the level of the master of Tokyo, but it was running a close second. Pale-sleeved arms slapped the weapon out of the assassin's hands, grabbing Crossbow up off the ground by the front of the shirt. An ally? Where had this new vampire come from? 

Kannon pulled the projectile from his throat, coughing and gagging on blood as more ran down his chin from his mouth and seeped down the front of his neck. He tried to speak and only gurgled, making him cough more, dropping to his knees to spit blood on the street. 

Asher turned his head from his victim, who was now nearly unconscious, still struggling in denial. Another person entered the entrance to the alleyway, and the short, wide build looked awful familiar. I finally saw the shape of perfectly coiffed hair on the first and realized who they were. The bodyguard and the geisha. What were they doing here? Out for a moonlit stroll? Oh, look honey, assassins.

Then the master himself stepped into view, walking forward past his bodyguards, stepping out of the shadow cast by the building to the right. I smelt a set up. These three show up, at the end of an attack, as the heroes. Right. It was so corny; I couldn't believe he thought I'd believe it.

"Blake-san," Sanesuke said smoothly. "Are you injured?"

I pointed the Browning at him. "Did you send them after me?"

He tried to look disappointed in me. "I did not, Blake-san. We heard your gunshots."

"How did you know they were mine?" 

He tilted his head ever so slightly. "I see you are holding a gun."

Smartass. 

Asher released his limp prisoner and let the man slump bonelessly to the ground beside the katana. I heard the loud, tearing sound of ripping cloth, and a high-pitched cry of fear, like that of a girl or a child. Looking past Sanesuke, I saw the geisha had turned her prisoner around, so they both faced us. She wasn't much taller than her prisoner, so I could only see the pale oval of her face and her hair over the captive's shoulder. She held the assassin with a kimonoed arm around the torso, trapping the arms. She had ripped her captive's shirt from the shoulder, pulling it away from the neck and down, revealing a thin pale shoulder and part of a flat chest. Child then. Something finally clicked in my head. Redhead, the soft friendly voice of a child. The scent of flowers. _I don't like him. He smells of blood.___

Sanesuke swiveled his head like an owl's to look at Asher approaching from his right. I saw his eyes narrow.

"I have not offered you violence, Blake-san," he said evenly, keeping his eyes on Asher. "But if you wish it, so be it."

"If you attack the human servant of the Master of St. Louis, even the Council will not ignore it. It is forbidden," Asher said just as evenly. I kind of doubted that. We had killed a member of the Council. And left a seat empty. Jean Claude had declined to take that seat as he should have. I doubted the Council would be upset at all. But I wasn't about to say that out loud. 

Sanesuke's eyes narrowed. I sure hoped he wasn't going to challenge that. If he attacked me, I could kill him. And the Council could do nothing about it according to their own rules. I doubted Sanesuke was that stupid. He might try to push me into attacking him so vice versa applied. I really hoped Sanesuke wasn't that stupid.

"I did not send these after you, Blake-san." He looked back to me finally. Something in his words told me he was telling the truth. Shit. It was so easy to believe it was him. If not the Master of Tokyo, then who else? 

I lowered the Browning. Let him attack me and see how far he got. He gave me one nod of his head at my action. The situation calmed immediately. I like it that way, calm. 

"I take this attack on my guest as a personal insult." He looked past me, making me glance over my shoulder. Jason had his assassin hanging over his shoulder backwards; long limbs dangling awkwardly like a marionette with its strings cut. 

Zane had crawled over to the man I had shot, lifting him up against his chest, a dark-haired head rolling limply. Nathaniel had been trying to creep forward to get to Cherry, who was still kneeling by my leg, but he seemed afraid to approach with Sanesuke so close. 

"A personal insult," I repeated. The child whimpered, drawing my eyes to see the geisha was pulling his face to the side with a pale-skinned hand over the lower half of his face. She bared a pale expanse of the boy's neck, sliding her cheek down along the back of his hair.

"Stop her."

The Browning had a new target. Sanesuke looked lazily at where my gun pointed. He looked back at me.

"They will be punished," he said simply. 

"Not by you." I bit my lip. "They're human, and they will be judged by humans."

I never handed humans over to the monsters. It was one of my rules. I've had others hand me over on a silver platter and I hadn't liked it one bit. Maybe that's where I got the itchy trigger finger. 

Sanesuke looked surprised. "Blake-san. They attempted to take your life. In a most dishonorable way."

"Screw that." I watched the geisha's lips near the boy's neck and I pulled back the hammer with my thumb. "Stop her. Now. Or I'll blow her head off."

Her dark eyes lifted to look at me then, but she didn't move her lips from the edge of the boy's neck. I watched those small, red lips thin into a blood-colored smile. If she tried to sink fang, screw the rules. 

Asher was watching me carefully, ready to act. I heard cloth rip again and I nearly pulled the trigger early. A quick glance to my left showed me Zane had ripped open the shirt of the man I had shot, and I saw his pale head lower to lick at the blood seeping from the dime-sized hole in the man's upper left chest. To my horror, the man moaned. He was still alive. Shit. 

"Zane!" I yelled. He lifted bloody lips up to look at me, slowly licking them clean. There was that gleam in his eyes. Shape shifters are just no good around blood. They just sort of loose it. Revert back to their animalistic instincts. If it's injured and captured, eat it. Geisha, Zane, geisha, Zane. Which one would I shoot first? 

Zane lowered his head again, only interested in the blood, and I bit my lip. I knew Sanesuke was watching me struggle with my people. If they didn't obey me, I was weak. I had to make a decision fast. I pointed the gun back at the geisha, who hadn't moved, and reached for the knife on my right arm, bared by having taken the jacket off. The knives had as high a silver content as I could manage, and something Zane wouldn't forget for a while. 

"Sanesuke," I breathed as the child whimpered in terror. The man I had shot moaned again, and I glanced back to see Zane back to busily working the wound. I could hear the soft, wet, sucking noises and felt sick to my stomach. 

The knife buried itself in the arm Zane used to hold the man still, across the lower chest, with a flick of my wrist. Zane recoiled with a hiss, the man falling limply into his lap as Zane clutched at the arm that had my knife half buried in it. He glared at me with eyes having gone golden, the beast inside him sliding behind those eyes. His pupils were slits, and though it was dark, I could see his eyes clearly, as if they were casting a light of their own. I felt the munin rise up in aggression that Zane might dare defy me. I wanted to go over and tear his throat out for disobedience. Then lick up the blood...like the blood slowly seeping from multiple healing cuts all over his body from the wires.

I shoved that part of the munin away. The munin was a power that the shape shifters had. It sometimes made other shape shifters think I had a beast of my own. This particular munin came from Richard's pack. I carried Raina, the old lupa, for example, with me. The lupa is the Alpha female, lover of the Ulfric, or Alpha male. When Richard had killed Marcus, the old Ulfric, I had killed Raina. Being Richard's main squeeze at the time, I became the only human lupa I'd ever heard of. Many shape shifters resented that fact. I couldn't consider myself his lupa any longer, really. I wasn't Richard's lover. Not anymore. 

With the rise of the munin, I could smell the blood in the air sharply, a tantalizing scent. I smelt my own blood, congealing on my arm in scarlet lines. I could smell the scent of flowers coming off the assassins. Remnants of the flower shop they worked in. They weren't aware they carried that scent in their hair, in their clothes, on their skin. 

I could smell the shape shifter with Sanesuke. Could smell his sweat. And I knew what he was. Weretiger. One of the Tora. I could smell the sick desire rolling off the geisha, and startlingly, from Sanesuke. He wanted something from me. And he wanted it bad. I didn't think it was me, but rather something I had, or could provide for him. 

The munin had been called, though not on purpose, and I could feel it rising up, building. Why was it still with me, even in Japan? Everyone was staring at me, probably feeling the munin as well. I turned my gaze back on Sanesuke. His eyes were wider, desire brighter. 

"Tell her to let him go. Jason, go get the kid," I said slowly, evenly, as the munin crawled and writhed under my flesh, begging release. Sanesuke took a step back from me. I felt Jason more than heard him move forward, having laid his burden down on the ground. I wanted to reach out to Jason as he passed, run my hands through his hair and down his body. I wanted—I shoved Raina away forcefully. I normally wouldn't have been able to shove her away. Even as it was, I had only quieted her. She would arise again at some other inopportune time until she was satisfied. My fear for the child over rode whatever foreign desires crept in. 

"You are more than I'd hoped, Blake-san." Sanesuke chuckled. "I can taste you like a shape shifter. I taste the emotions running through you now. It is because he is a child, is it not? That Age of Consent rule the America-jin stick to? You are not in America, Blake-san. Age makes no difference to us."

I stepped toward him, feeling light on my feet like a cat parting the bushes. Mine, mine, mine. The munin shoved my dominance into over drive, and Sanesuke had to acknowledge what was mine. My assassins. I dealt with them. He was stealing my prey, and in the wild, that could have deadly consequences. 

Sanesuke stayed where he was, meeting my challenge with an almost bored, but amused look. There was the flicker of movement from his fingers, and I felt a fluttering across my stomach. I glanced for a third of a second, seeing the smooth rent in my tank top across my belly. So Sanesuke did it too. He'd cut my shirt with just his power, and not even touched my skin. Few vampires I knew had the control to cut only cloth and not the skin below. Vampires can't do that to a normal human. In effect, they can only do it to other creatures of power. Like necromancers. They manipulated that creature's aura to inflict damage. I needed to learn that trick. He hadn't actually hurt me, so I couldn't blow his head off yet. 

The geisha had stepped back from Jason, dragging the child with her, and she finally laughed. It was rich and flowing, as if fingers caressed my hair. I watched her form start to fade in disbelief. Jason swiped for the child and his hand passed through the two as if they were so much smoke. Sanesuke laughed afterward, stepping back from me slowly. 

"You cannot have everything, Blake-san." His voice seemed to echo as he backed away. He backed up to his bodyguard, and passed straight through him, making me gasp. 

Then it was just the Tora facing us, arms crossed against his massive chest, blocking the alleyway so you'd have to press against the wall to get out. He made no moves other than to block the way. Like a hockey goalie. But scarier. Jason sized up the Tora, as if considering taking him on. 

"Anita?" I heard Cherry's voice trembling and unsure. I turned to look at her, seeing Nathaniel helping her to her feet. Her shoulder was mostly reattached to her body now. She no longer had to hold it on. I heard a low rumble like thunder and saw Jason had approached the larger man. My arms were getting very tired from holding the gun up. 

"Jason, don't break the truce," I warned. Jason backed off immediately. The Tora turned and vanished from view. Asher was watching me, ever so carefully. I uncocked the gun and reholstered it.

"Kannon, call an ambulance." I looked to him. There must have been something to my voice or the way I looked at him, but he took off at a run. As if he were afraid of me. 

I walked over to the redhead, the Browning loose in my hand. He was still out cold, but his pulse was steady. Cherry had taken my lead and turned into Nurse Cherry, ignoring her own hurt and walking quickly to check on the other. Zane had plucked my knife from his arm, and licked the blood off. He offered it back to me, hilt first. 

"Don't make me kick your ass again," I warned him as I took it and sheathed it. He smiled, a slow, feral smile. His eyes had returned to their normal brown. His wounds had mostly healed, leaving him streaked and dotted with his own blood. I knelt down by the man I'd shot. 

His eyes were open now, and he was panting, gulping for air. His eyes were wild as his lungs sucked down air noisily. Short, dark hair had caught in the sweat on his brow, spilling over a set of some kind of large goggles, and his face was too familiar. Just hours ago he had blushed, making the lovely arrangement that now sat on the coffee table in my hotel room. I examined just exactly where I'd shot him, about armpit level in the upper left of his chest. Listening to his wheezing getting louder, I knew I'd punctured a lung. Air was filling his chest with every breath he took till it would manage to crush both of his lungs and kill him. 

"Cherry!" I called hurriedly. "Get over here!"

Almost before I'd finished speaking, she was by my side, gently pushing me aside to examine him. He was scared now; I could see it in his eyes. He was afraid of us. He was afraid of the fact he couldn't breathe. I could taste his fear like chocolate on my tongue, melting deliciously. I shook my head to get rid of that feeling, but it kept emanating from him, feeding me. No, not feeding me. Feeding the munin. 

It wanted to run out and envelope him, to taste his blood, feel his last struggles as he died. 

"We've got to release the pressure." Cherry looked at me worriedly. She looked at my arms. I looked down and saw my knives. She immediately pulled out the one that Zane hadn't licked, and used it to cut the rest of his shirt open. He struggled with us, and I grabbed the nearest arm. He wore heavy gloves with blades on the knuckles. I pinned the arm, blade-side down, to the ground with my knee. Asher appeared on the other side of me. He reached out his hand toward the man's head, pushing the goggles off as the man flailed from his touch. I'm sure he would have screamed if he had the air to do it with.


	9. Chapter 9

Warning: Ken molestation.

Chapter 9. 

Asher used the hand on his forehead to press Goggles down to the ground and look into his eyes. Meeting Asher's pale eyes, Goggles limped almost immediately. Cherry pressed her hand down over the front of his ribs, judging the right spot, sliding her hand inch by inch along his rib cage. She was quick, the knife piercing his skin smoothly between the ribs and I heard the rush of air that escaped. The munin seemed to leap forward in me, as if it wanted to rush into that new opening, nearly making me lurch forward over him. I couldn't stop my hand reaching out, and I felt a resistance. Very slight, but I realized I was touching his aura, fighting back against the munin. I touched the warm skin of his stomach, sliding up to his chest. Raina was returning, the blood and warm flesh drawing her back. She liked it when things were hurting. 

Goggles thrashed, the pain of the new stab wound freeing him from Asher's gaze. Cherry knelt down on his other arm, and he finally got enough of a lungful of air to scream. I shuddered at the feelings the scream raised in me. Raina liked it. Too much.

"Asher," I breathed. "Please."

Asher reached out with both hands to cup Goggles' face and look him in the eyes as the young man tried to resist looking at him, only interested in getting away from us. Not that I blamed him. I would have wanted to get away from us too. 

"Look at me," Asher whispered and I felt it like a caress down my arm. Goggles looked, the voice luring him, and he was docile again. I looked back to the wound, a dark hole leaking very little blood now. I wanted...no, Raina wanted to dig fingers into his flesh, rip it in scarlet ribbons. I stopped myself as I felt the skin dimple under my fingernails. The smell of him, masculine, flowery, and the smell of blood was filling my senses. Cherry had removed her identification card from the uncut side of her bra and pulled the knife out, placing the card over the wound, watching me with horrid fascination. 

Goggles was still gasping for breath, but it wasn't as panicked. He was actually getting air now. I felt someone touch my hair, and it was Nathaniel, having pressed close behind me. I pulled away from Nathaniel. I couldn't let Raina direct her attentions toward him. But she wanted him. Instead I leaned down over the assassin, bringing my lips close to his skin, breathing power along it. I didn't know if this would work on a human, but he had an aura that was nearly manifest. Someone touched my arm in a slow, lingering caress and I rode the sensation, moving up his chest till I met the bullet wound. 

Raina wanted to rip his pants off and watch him suffocate as she took him. I tried to redirect her into the other capacity she had and didn't often use. My fingers touched his jaw, stroking almost lovely as Raina built up. She was nearly screaming in frustration, filling me with heat. I moved over him, straddling his legs, feeling my pants tight against my skin. I sat up quickly, thrusting my hands down on the bullet wound, trying to channel Raina's ability to heal down into it. My fingers dug into the wound, but it was the power digging deeper as I visualized the blood vessels refusing, torn membrane and tissue mending, flesh closing. 

Released again from Asher's gaze by pain, Goggles screamed again, choking on the power, his back arching up in response and dropping back down. It wasn't working, and Raina was still clawing at me, demanding satisfaction. The power was filling his body with no direction. 

"Asher," I gasped, and he turned his eyes to me. Our lips met, faces being only a few inches apart, and his power reached out for mine, pressing against it, adding his strength to force Raina into submission. I kissed at his lips, and his tongue met mine, skillfully avoiding fangs. I felt Raina relent in her desire, the warmth flowing down out of my hands and into the man's body. I pulled back from Asher's lips, power playing along our lips like mist as I gasped for air. 

I leaned back from Goggles, taking deep breaths, and saw his wound was filled with bright pink flesh. His gasping had nearly calmed. The shape shifters were all around me, drinking in the munin as it faded back, satisfied for now. Zane pressed his fingers up against his mouth as if the munin were honey, licking at his fingers, trying to draw it out. 

Good to the last drop? The sarcastic side of me quoted the coffee commercial, bringing me back to myself. I heard a muttered curse, not that I understood it, but the tone of it wasn't pleasant. All eyes shifted to see the redhead was awake and rolling over to get up, bloodied katana in hand. He was glaring at us dangerously. 

He yelled something and Jason and Zane rose to their feet more gracefully than humans should have been able to. The redhead fell into a defensive stance, feet apart, knees slightly bent, katana hilt held in both hands, pointed up and slightly at an angle. His eyes darted from Jason to Zane, to me, and the man in front of me. He yelled again, and I didn't understand it.

"He wants us away," Cherry said quietly. Trying to save his team member. I must admit it might look questionable as to what we had been doing to him. Goggles was mumbling something I couldn't comprehend. Kannon came running back into the alleyway and slid to a stop as the redhead whirled on him, backing up so Kannon was on his side, and not his back. The other assassin was still out cold, sprawled on the ground. Cherry removed her ID card, slowly handing me the knife back. The knife wound had stopped bleeding as well, not as healed as the other, but it looked much better.

"Kannon, tell him to throw down his sword and his friend will get medical attention."

So it was a bluff. He didn't know I had healed him already. And that the ambulance had already been called. I'm sure someone had heard the shots. Why didn't I hear sirens yet?

Kannon spoke quickly, repeating himself when the redhead started screaming at him, glancing at him only momentarily. I got to my feet, facing the redhead. He hunched down lower, eyes gone cold, ready to strike. Kannon was still speaking rapidly, and the redhead was ignoring him. Jason and Zane fanned out on either side, surrounding him. I watched him look around, weighing the odds. The redhead looked at me, and spoke slowly.

"Where is the other one if his team," Kannon translated and the redhead glanced at him. 

"Tell him. Tell him the vampires took him away," I said calmly. The redhead was looking back at me, body trembling with the tension. Kannon spoke and the redhead snapped at him.

"He doesn't believe you."

"Of course not." I folded my arms across the cut in my shirt, and my hand going for the Browning again. "And the longer he draws this out, the more likely it is the vampires are doing something awful to him."

Kannon flinched at my words, but repeated them in Japanese. Katana snarled at me, and I saw the bunching of his muscles. He was ready to go for me. The Browning was already in my hand. 

A new voice rang out in Japanese and all eyes darted toward the source. Two figures were crouched on the rooftop behind me. One had long hair and a jacket that wrapped his body to his knees. The other had short hair, and wore very little. I could make out some sort of sleeveless shirt and pants. Long Hair lifted his face in the moonlight, illuminating it, and I gasped. Green Eyes. It was Green Eyes from the restaurant. 

Katana hissed ahead of me, his eyes only for the two figures on the roof. Gee, fickle, wasn't he? 

"Anita," I heard Jason say somewhere between a gasp and a whisper. I looked up at Green Eyes, and he looked right back at me, smiling. 

_Was verstecken Sie? _[1]

My eyes widened. German. My father was German. I knew German when I heard it. But his lips hadn't moved. I reached out with my power, reaching up to him. He felt human. And he didn't seem to notice what I'd done. He was a simple telepath. But a strong one. I reached out toward his companion and felt recognition, but he was still human. My power recognized him somehow. I couldn't tell just why yet. I pulled it back to myself, puzzled. 

"Du bist die Executioner," he spoke aloud finally. It wasn't a question. More of a statement. You are the Executioner. If he knew that, then he knew the vamps. The Browning pointed up at him. He laughed. 

"Wer sind Sie?" [2] I asked some of the little German I knew. 

The German made a sweeping bow. "Ich bin Schuldig." [3]

"Schuldig," I heard Katana snarl behind me. I had the feeling I was standing between the Hatfields and the McCoys. Schuldig unleashed a string of Japanese, followed by cackling. I took the moment while two conversed to look back at the others. The other assassin was up. The tall one. He was sitting up, looking around in a daze. 

"Jason!" I hissed, and he looked. Katana looked as well.

"Youji!" he cried. Youji? So it wasn't food. It was a person. Cherry had recognized his scent. Of course. 

Asher was standing, one foot on Goggles' chest, holding him down. Youji's head jerked toward Katana, and he was scrambling to his feet when Jason tackled him. They rolled across the alleyway in a mess of wrestling limbs. Cherry and Nathaniel were huddled together, unsure. Afraid. Cherry watched Jason and Youji wrestle with snarled curses.

"Old rivals," Kannon said clearly to me across the way. I had figured. So why had Schuldig arrived now?

Schuldig's companion stood up now, silhouetting a frail, thin frame. He almost reminded me of a decimated zombie. The kind so far gone they just sort of shuffled along before they had any blood. Schuldig stepped up on the ledge, hands in his jacket pockets, and jumped off. He landed with a great bending of the knees, dispersing the impact, then stood up serenely as possible. I still knew it had to hurt. His ankles must be killing him. 

Katana screamed and lunged forward with his katana, slashing after Schuldig. Schuldig moved to the side so fast, I though I was seeing a lycanthrope. Humans can't move that fast. Impossible. Katana recovered from the miss by twirling his whole body around to gain momentum. I watched them fight a moment, Katana slashing and hacking while Schuldig just dashed out of the way. Jason and Youji had come to a stop, Jason holding Youji's arms twisted up behind his back and sitting on his back. Youji was busy screaming things that were either threats or insults. Asher was still standing on Goggles, who was trying to shove him off. With no success.

I watched Zombie slip down, landing with a loud thump of shoes on the ground. These guys had to have incredible ankles to do this often. I was going to be paranoid of rooftops the whole time I was here. 

Zombie slinked toward me, light ghosting a pale face with an eye-patch, silvering short, pale hair. It was Zane's one-eyed, little brother! But the little brother wore more. He wore some kind of tank top under his vest. I saw a knife appear out of nowhere, the tip dragging down his own cheek as he looked at me. There was the barest hint of a smile on his face, scars criss-crossing it. Seeing where the knife was now, I could guess how he got them. I could guess this had been a rebellious child. Dear, I told you not to run with scissors. Here, put this eye-patch on. 

He slowly stepped toward me, the knife point sliding along his cheek hard enough to raise a pink welt till it reached his lips and his tongue flicked out to lick at the blade. Typical bad-guy-with-the-knife move. I had the Browning pointed at him. I watched his eyes brighten almost with excitement. I'd seen that look before. On Gabriel, when he had given me back my knives so I could gut him with them. I'd been more than happy to comply. He'd been more than happy to receive it. Ugh.

Asher moved, eyes on Zombie, making Zombie look to him, but not moving the knife, so it cut his lip. He didn't seem to notice. 

"You German too?" I asked him. If he was Japanese, I'd shit a brick. He turned his head slightly back to me with a small smile. 

He murmured something foreign and not Japanese, maybe Latin, with a widening grin. Oh great. Yet another foreign language. I didn't even know how he got his tongue around some of those sounds. 

"Yeah, sanctorum sanctis to you too," I muttered. I couldn't kill him. He hadn't touched me yet. No matter how I wanted to shoot him. He could hurt himself all he wanted. He quickly changed at my words, his eye going wild, and his hand darting out toward my face and I felt a sharp sting in my cheek as I jerked my head back. 

Asher slammed into Zombie, throwing him into the wall. Zombie didn't even wince, looking back up at Asher. I waited for the snare of the vampire gaze, but Zombie just blinked, smiled, and slashed at Asher's face with his knife. I gasped. Impossible. Just what was he that my power recognized him and he could resist the gaze like I could?

Asher jerked back quickly, his golden hair falling away from his face and Zombie paused, single eye running over the scarred side of Asher's face. Asher gave him his iciest stare. The stare would have chilled me to the bones. Zombie smiled again, tongue running out to lick at his lip. 

"Kirei, kirei," [4] he mumbled before cackling.

I heard a shriek. Suddenly Katana had whirled on Zane, slashing him across the chest before anyone saw it coming. Zane snarled and grabbed at Katana, grabbing him by the arm only to receive the butt of the katana hilt to his face. Now he was ignoring Schuldig completely, who had his hands tucked in his pockets, grinning as he walked toward me. Fickle indeed. 

Asher had grabbed Zombie by the throat, slamming him back against the wall, and Zombie giggled madly. Not good. They weren't supposed to laugh.

"Anita Blake." Schuldig grinned as he stepped closer, looking straight down the barrel of my gun. 

"Don't tell me, you're here to kill me?" I asked.

"Nothing personal," he said in English before my head slammed into the wall and I saw stars. Bright flashes of light against darkness told me I was losing consciousness. Dammit. Hate when that happens. 

[1] What are you hiding?

[2] Who are you?

[3] I am Guilty

[4] Pretty, pretty


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10. 

     I woke up in a bed and reached for Sigmund, and not finding him. Where was my penguin? Who had dared to steal him while I slept? I opened my eyes to see Nathaniel sitting in a chair next to the edge of my bed. His pants were, of course, leather, but they showed nothing, for once. He wore a lavender, silk blouse over it with short sleeves. His cheek was resting on his fist, eyes closed, leaning to the right on the armrest. In the next bed over was Cherry, sleeping on her side on top of the covers.

     I lifted my head and winced at the dizziness that tried to follow. The room was white, and there was that familiar smell of alcohol swabs. Hospital. Wake up in enough of them and you'll recognize them immediately. I was in another hospital. I never seem to get away from these things. 

"Nathaniel?" I whispered. His head jerked, and I had to call him again before his eyes opened. Eyes the color of his shirt looked down at me with a smile.

"How are you doing, Anita?" He leaned in close so I could rub his cheek, his voice low and dreamy from sleep. I complied and stroked his soft cheek. How long had he been sitting there? How long had I been here? 

"Nathaniel, what happened here?" I asked lowly.

"That Schuldig guy slammed your head into the wall." Nathaniel lifted his head, looking at me with affection. "Kannon thought you were dead. But I knew you weren't."

Schuldig? Green eyes. _Du bist die Executioner..._ It came back to me in a rush. 

"Where is Kannon? And Asher, and the others?" I asked quickly, grabbing his arm. 

"Relax, they're fine." Nathaniel almost purred. "When that guy knocked you out, Asher attacked him. But he got away when that other guy with him jumped in. He reminded me of Zane."

I nodded to keep him going.

"Well, Asher is back in the hotel room, Cherry is right over there, Zane is back at the hotel, with Jason, Kannon, and those guys."

My heart nearly stopped. "Those guys?"

"Yeah, Youji and them?" Nathaniel smiled. 

"You let assassins into my hotel room?!" I hissed, grabbing the collar of his silk shirt and dragging him to look me in the eye. He gulped.

"Relax, Anita," he stuttered, "they helped us. That Schuldig guy really put a hurting on Jason, and Youji attacked him. Asher decided they would come with us. Said we couldn't just let them go."

Asher. I sighed. Had the assassins really helped us? Why?

"But what about Zane?" I asked. "Nathaniel, they tried to kill me."

Nathaniel's eyes darted away from mine in nervousness. "Well, Zane said that you said that guy was some kind of telepath, and Aya said he hadn't wanted to attack Zane. He thought he was attacking Schuldig."

"Aya?" 

"The guy with the sword?"

Katana. So his name was Aya. How long had I been out? They knew each other by first names? I get knocked out and the world is at peace. Boy, guess who felt like the anti-christ.

The door to the room opened and a slender Japanese doctor came in. "Ohayo, Blake-san."

"Do you speak English?" I winced, letting go of Nathaniel's shirt.

"Hai, a rittle." He nodded. 

"How long was I asleep?"

"It eight juugo...fifteen morning," he said, stumbling. "You here ereben forty fibe lass night?"

A few hours. That wasn't so bad. 

"You woke up a few times, but I guess you don't remember." Nathaniel smiled at me, leaning forward and folding his arms on the bed. He rested his head on them and let his hair spill around like mahogany liquid. I looked at the doctor's nametag and he saw me staring at the symbols.

"Shigemasu." He smiled at me. I nodded in gratitude.

"Doctor Shigemasu, am I going home now?"

"We see." He shone a penlight in my eyes and I tried my best not to squint. Cherry had awoken, and slipped over to my bed. 

The Doctor pointed out a bandage on my cheek that I hadn't noticed. Where Zombie had cut me. I hadn't felt it till now, but it didn't hurt. I wondered how bad it was. 

Until now, I hadn't received any cuts to my face. Bruises, yes, but now I saw flashes of my face as badly scarred as my arms or the rest of my body. I didn't want to look like Frankenstein's monster. The cut was low on my right cheek, near the jaw. I could live with that. Normally, the thought of scars didn't bother me, but I didn't want to ruin my face. Call it vanity. I'm a woman after all. 

"You go home." Doctor Shigemasu smiled at me kindly. 

"We got some clothes for you," Nathaniel said excitedly. Cherry, now standing behind Nathaniel, smiled and grabbed a pair of black jeans and the penguin shirt off the other bed, along with a black windbreaker, socks, underwear, a black lace bra, and my Nikes. 

"You brought the penguin shirt?" My face was aflame. 

Cherry smiled. "Now you have to wear it."

The doc left to complete my discharge papers and Nathaniel turned around while Cherry handed the articles of clothing to me, as I was ready for them. I slipped the Nikes on, feeling air on my stomach and back as I bent over. It felt uncomfortable. You never realize just how much security you get just from having clothes that covered everything. The shirt wasn't that short, but it showed a small band of my skin just above the waistband of my jeans. The windbreaker at least covered my arms.

"Kannon got us a car." Nathaniel grinned at my penguin shirt as I muttered and kept trying to tug it down. 

"Good then, let's go," I said hurriedly. I wanted those assassins out of my hotel room. I wanted them in a nice cozy little jail cell. Doctor Shigemasu showed up in time to escort me out, as he watched me walk to see how steady on my feet I was. I was pretty steady. One advantage of being a human servant was that I healed faster than normal. Sometimes days or weeks faster than I should have. 

Nathaniel and Cherry took me out to the car, a little gray Nissan with the steering wheel on the wrong side. There was a kid leaning his bottom against it. He was thin and dressed in a military style outfit, gray-blue with a high collar. His hair was a short, soft brown that curled around his baby face. He turned to look to us as we neared. 

"Hey," Nathaniel called to him, "get off the car."

The kid smiled slightly at him, and his midnight blue eyes turned on me. I could see in his eyes that he recognized me. And I had never seen him before. Why did everyone seem to recognize us here? Were we in the paper? America's Zombie Queen visits Japan?

He stood up, perfectly calm, as if he had merely paused to rest. He had been waiting for us. But for what? I'm sure he wasn't the Easter Bunny. Hiding eggs around the car. 

With a small toss of his head that flung his hair out of his eyes, he stepped off, walking calmly away.

"Creepy," Cherry muttered. Indeed. I had a feeling there was more to this encounter than indicated. If he had wanted to cause trouble, I'm sure he wouldn't have been alone. No, he had merely been sent to watch. And now he was off to tell whoever it was that sent him. Of course, I couldn't prove that. I watched his thin back as he walked away, calmly. Just out for a stroll. Riiight.

"Let's go." Nathaniel walked for the car. 

"Wait." I reached out for him. "I still got another twenty-four hours for my death to be executed. How do we know that kid didn't sabotage the car?"

Nathaniel approached it cautiously, sniffing where the kid had leaned against it, then over the other parts of the car, kneeling down to sniff at the undercarriage. It was weird to watch what appeared to be a human doing that.

"He didn't touch anything but there." He pointed to where the kid had leaned. Cherry walked over to the driver's side, keys in her hand. She opened the door cautiously, sniffing at the inside.

"It's clean," she said finally. "It just kinda smells hot."

I looked after the disappearing kid as I got into the passenger seat and Nathaniel climbed into the back.

"We brought your guns, Anita." Nathaniel leaned over the edge of my seat to hand me the Browning and the Firestar in their holsters. I felt greatly relieved to have them back, sorta like missing a wedding ring for most folks. Aww, honey, a fully automatic! You shouldn't have! 

Wait. That was a scary thought, considering who gave me most of my coolest toys. Edward. I'd often thought about my relationship with Edward. Were we friends? Yes. Would we ever be more? No way in hell. We might kill each other in cold blood, but we'd never kiss or hold hands. Who the hell is writing my life? They must be found and put out of my misery. (Authors: O_O)

"Get us home quickly," I told Cherry.

When I got upstairs in the hotel, I flung open my door to find it untouched. 

"They're in Jason's room," Nathaniel said from behind me. Damn. I hurried down to Jason's room, deprived of my dramatic entrance, and flung open his door. Anita enters, take two. Jason looked up from the small table that served as a dinette with Youji sitting at it with him, small sunglasses perched on his nose. They were eating a McDonald's breakfast. Egg McMuffins. Just like all werewolves and assassins did.

Kannon was curled up on the couch, snoozing in a little ball. Someone had pulled a blanket over him. Zane had a McMuffin himself, leaning back against the counter beyond the dinette. The others were nowhere in sight. 

Kannon's head jerked up when I flung the door open, and he blinked at me sleepily.

"Nice shirt, Anita." Jason winked at me with a smirk. I saw Youji copy the wink at me with him. Great, just great.

"Anita, are you okay?" Kannon asked, sitting up and holding the blanket in his hands in puzzlement. 

"I'm perfectly fine," I said crossly. "Now what are they doing here?!"

"Shhhh." Jason put his finger to his lips. "Two of them are sleeping."

"My ass!" I yelled at him and Nathaniel closed the door behind us. "What they doing here?!"

"Anita, calm down," Zane rumbled. "We brought them here, because, one, they aren't our enemy any longer. Two, Asher made that decision. Three, they need our help now."

"They need our help." I tried to take deep cleansing breaths. "About what? Zane, they were tying to kill me. WHY are they in MY hotel room?!"

"The kid," Jason said. "The one Sanesuke took."

The kid. I had forgotten about him. If he wasn't already dead, he would be soon if we didn't save him. I looked to Kannon.

"Can you contact Sanesuke to talk?" I asked. Kannon looked uncomfortable.

"I can." He nodded. 

"But?" 

"But he probably won't listen to you."

"He'll fucking listen to me. He better," I snarled. "Where are the other two sleeping?"

"In Asher's room." Jason nodded. I walked right past them to Asher's room door and opened it. Aya had curled up on his side at the edge of the bed. He had taken his jacket off, and his boots were by the edge of the bed. On the other side of the bed, Goggles lay on his back, the blanket pulled up to his chest. One bare arm hung off the bed. They looked so tired I couldn't scream at them. They had gone from being enemy I must kill, to real, sleeping people. Asher's coffin was near the edge of the bed.

I heard Zane stepping up behind me. "Look yummy, don't they?"

I closed the door, turning to face Zane with a look. He was smiling, still looking at the door as if he could somehow still see through it. I sighed and walked away from the door.

"Anita, they're here because Asher said they had to stay. He didn't want us to lose them. And Youji has been telling us more about that Schuldig guy," Jason said to redirect my mind back to business. Youji turned in his chair, McMuffin in a wrapper in his hand.

"He speaks English?" I asked, trying to relax about the fact these guys had tried to kill me. Why was I so agitated? Who wouldn't be? I kinda agreed with Asher's reasoning. Keep your friends close, but enemies closer. Yeah, yeah.

"No, Kannon translated that, and we just had breakfast." Jason smiled and took another bite of his McMuffin. 

"Schwarz," Youji said in a deep but soft voice. 

"Schwarz is like a kind of enemy faction," Jason filled in. "They are both assassin groups, and apparently, both were told to kill you."

"Schwarz," I repeated, and was suddenly transported to the movie Spaceballs. I see your Schwarz is as big as mine. May the Schwarz be with you. They sure as hell had been with me. I wanted them to go away.

"By who?" I crossed my arms and tried to look menacing. Not easy to do in a penguin shirt. Youji just gave me a lazy grin, and I saw his eyes look me down, then up. I tried to stop his progress by pinning him with a glare.

"They don't know who originally asked," Jason answered. "They were just informed you were to be killed."

Of course. A middle man. Edward had one too. How annoying.

"And now they don't want to kill me, and need my help to get their kid back," I finished. Jason nodded.

"Let me ask you this." I walked up to Youji. "Why are you doing with a kid as an assassin?"

He blinked soft green eyes at me over the top of his shades. Dirty blonde hair waved around his face. He reminded me of perfume or cologne models. He was one of those men who was more pretty than handsome, but still masculine enough to be unmistakably male. Like Jean Claude.

Kannon translated for me, seeing Youji was completely lost except for the fact I was demanding something from him. He lowered his gaze and answered Kannon.

"The kid, Omi, he says is his name, has been a part of that faction longer than he himself has."

That took me by surprise. "How old is he?" I asked.

"Seventeen."

A teenager. And killing for longer than this grown up man had. He had an earlier start than I had. I hadn't started killing till the last couple years. I hadn't needed to. But then again, I wasn't an assassin. Though lately I was starting to wonder. That meant the kid had to be good to have lived this long. Bad assassins were weeded out quickly. It was natural selection. He just hadn't considered meeting up with vampires. 

"He wants to know what you are," Kannon said from the couch. I hadn't heard Youji speak, too absorbed by my thoughts.

"I'm a necromancer," I said, not bothering to wonder why he asked 'what' and not 'who'. "I raise the dead."

Kannon translated and I saw the color drain out of Youji's face. He looked away from me, putting the muffin down, his fingers moving to his temple as he looked down at the table. I'd never gotten that reaction. Hatred, confusion, interest, desire, but never this sudden upset.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11. 

I watched Youji's hands tremble and looked to Jason. Jason raised his eyebrows. 

"What's his problem?" I asked Kannon. 

"I don't know." Kannon watched Youji. Zane moved closer to Youji, sliding up behind his chair. 

"Mourning?" he rumbled, leaning down close to Youji's head. Youji's head jerked up and he glared at Zane. I watched their eyes lock, reminding me of Jason and Zane's showdown on the plane. I reached out and grabbed Zane by the ear, jerking his head away from the stare down.

"Enough, Zane, that's enough," I said menacingly. Zane looked at me, still bent over from my hold on his ear. 

"I am Nimir-ra," I told him. "And you will obey me."

"You are Nimir-ra," he rumbled after me. I released his ear. He stood up calmly, smiling. The door to Asher's room opened, and Aya stepped out, rubbing his eyes. He was wearing his socks, black pants and a black, sleeveless shirt. He stopped when he saw me. I saw his eyes flicker over the penguin shirt and I nearly flushed in embarrassment. Oh yes, I had to change, ASAP.

He spoke, and Youji answered.

"He asks if you will help them." Kannon had gotten up off the couch.

I considered Aya carefully. He had attacked Cherry, Asher, Zane, and me. But I was apparently the only one who had a small problem with that still. So now I was the bad guy. 

"After he had been told to kill me?" I asked bitchily. Kannon translated and Aya bowed his head. He muttered with a deep, rich voice back to Kannon. 

"They failed," Kannon said simply, "and getting the kid back is more important to them. They aren't going to try to kill you anymore."

Getting the kid back. That was the most important thing here. No one had really been hurt. Must get my priorities straight.

"Regardless of whether you asked or not, I'd get the kid back. They took him because of me," I said to Aya, "if you want to help out, that's your prerogative, but you'd be best leaving it to me. You aren't ready to deal with these guys. And don't think I've forgiven you yet."

Aya looked at me with his lavender eyes, and I watched them get colder as Kannon translated. "He's my teammate. Whether you help me or not, I will get him back," he challenged. 

"You'll be killed." I turned away from him, walking back to the table. "And I'm dead serious."

Youji slunk off to take advantage of the vacated spot in the bed, and to probably escape the carnage if we started to fight. Aya stared at me as if measuring me. I felt my hand want to grab for the Browning hanging at my side under the windbreaker. Luckily, he saved me from that decision by taking the chair Youji had vacated. 

He began to explain without further ado. Weiß, they called their team, and they were dedicated to taking out drug lords, criminals, and other nasties of the human world. He admitted they had taken the hit because it relayed I was responsible for many murders and had slipped though the cracks of the American justice system. Well, not to say he wasn't correct, but it wasn't a matter of slipping through cracks. Most of them had been in self-defense and perfectly legal. The rest, well...they couldn't prove it. Maybe the case file hadn't been all that wrong. 

Schwarz acted as bodyguards for a certain crimelord name Takatori. Takatori. Sounded like a Japanese dish to me. Probably something you ate with the fingers and dipped in sauce.

Schwarz consisted of four members and all have some kind of ability beyond normal. I'd met Schuldig. I was right, he was a telepath. Zombie, I found out, was named Farfarello, and they said he didn't feel pain. I found that interesting. How could anyone not feel pain? Unless they were paralyzed. That explain the giggling when he was slammed into the wall. 

The leader of the group was an American named Crawford, and he was a precognative. I knew a few clairvoyants, but never one that saw the future. Now THERE was a handy little skill. And the winning numbers are...

The last member, Nagi, was described as a child, with powers of telekinesis. Powerful. Dangerous. I could imagine why Schwarz was so good. They played with a stacked deck. Well, so did I. 

"Okay, now that I know who the human enemy is. Aya, you need to understand the non-human enemies," I told him. He seemed very skeptical as we told him about shape shifters and vampires. 

"Fairytales," he insisted. Jason choked on his chocolate milk from across the table.

"Fairytales," I repeated slowly. I took my windbreaker off and put my arms on the table where he could see them. Scars crisscrossed my arms, some caused by me, but not most of them. There was a mound of white scar tissue near the bend of my left arm. And a cross-shaped burn mark, a little crooked now due to being clawed by a shape-shifted witch. Scars dribbled down from it like water. Of the two, the left one was the worst. 

I saw his eyebrow lift, looking at the scars. Other than that, his facial expression didn't change. 

"Vampires and shape shifters did these," I explained to him. I tugged down on the collar of the shirt to show him the scars on my collarbone. His eyes lifted to look.

"And what did that?"

"A vampire that got a little too messy with its food," I explained. He blinked lilac-colored eyes and looked away again. I had more scars, hidden by my clothes. But I wasn't going to show him those. 

"You think that will stop me?" he asked softly.

"No," I admitted. "But you have to believe they are real to deal with them. They play for keeps, Aya. One wrong move, and you're dead. Or you're a snack first."

"I always play for keeps." Aya got to his feet. "Can we order some coffee?"

That was one request I was only too happy to oblige. We waited for the coffee in relative silence, and only after getting a few sips of the brew we both took black, did anyone speak again. 

"How do we save Omi?" Aya finally put his cup down. 

"It depends on what the Master of Tokyo wants." I shrugged. "I think it might be incentive to get me to find his cats. Or maybe he doesn't want anything at all. Maybe the kid is already dead."

Aya closed his eyes and steepled his fingers in front of his face. "If he is dead, there will be retribution," he said slowly. 

"Hold your horses there, Red," I said quickly. "You can't kill him. You don't know what he can do. He'll either kill you, or turn you into lunch. And you still end up dead."

He opened his eyes and looked at me over his fingers. "Then help me."

I noticed he said 'me'. Not 'us'. He didn't plan to take the others with him. It was smart in a leader type way, but suicidal to think he had the idea of going alone. Men. 

I looked to Kannon. "Call Sanesuke. I wanna talk to him."

Kannon hesitated one moment before going to the phone. Aya picked up his coffee and sipped it again.

A few moments later, Kannon handed me the phone. I figured Sanesuke would be up. Somewhere safe from the light.

"Blake-san, how nice to speak to you again."

"Cut the bullshit, Sanesuke," I said tiredly. "Is the kid alive?"

I heard him chuckle breathily. "Yes, he's alive."

I took a deep breath. "I want him back, Sanesuke. Tell me what I have to do."

"Get me my leopards, Blake-san," he said as politely as ever.

"Let me speak to the kid," I bargained. "I wanna know he's all right."

"You speak Japanese?" Sanesuke chuckled again.

"His friend does. Let the kid talk to him and I'll go find your leopards today."

"Excellent, Blake-san," Sanesuke said pleasantly. I heard the phone go quiet. I waited with a tense breath till I heard breathing again. 

"Sanesuke?" I asked. 

"Da-re?" I heard a soft voice ask. I handed the phone to Aya. 

Aya started to speak in Japanese and I heard the child's plaintive voice even a few steps away. Aya spoke quietly and calmly, even though his hand gripped the phone like he might crush it. I would have felt the same if it had been one of mine.

I wrapped my arms around myself. I felt so helpless. I couldn't talk to the kid. I could only hope Aya was doing well. And I'm not that great at trusting other people. I heard Aya mention my name and his eyes glanced to me. Jason sat in his chair quietly, watching Aya solemnly. Zane sat on the back of the couch, listening. 

"Omi?" Aya suddenly gripped the phone with both hands. "Omi!"

I blinked. What had happened? Aya's eyes grew hard and he started growling into the phone, speaking harshly. I heard the low baritone answer and tried to grab the phone before Aya said something that might cost the kid. Aya tried to move out of my reach, stretching the cord. 

"Aya! Give me the phone, now!" I grabbed for it, and we ended up in a tug of war while Aya was still busy threatening Sanesuke and I tried to peel his fingers off the receiver.

I finally jerked the phone from him and clapped it to my ear so quickly I nearly hit myself in the face with it. Dammit! And this is why you don't invite assassins into your apartment. 

"Sanesuke?" I asked worriedly. Sanesuke chuckled.

"Your friend has quite a temper." He seemed quite amused. I glared at Aya and he glared back. Zane hovered near him, waiting for an excuse to eat him most likely. 

"I'd like to meet him," Sanesuke continued. "Bring him with you."

"I'll bring the leopards, that was the deal," I protested. I could guess why Sanesuke wanted to meet Aya. And I could guess Aya wouldn't like it. 

"Bring him for the child," Sanesuke countered as smooth as silk. 

"I'm not trading him, Sanesuke. We had a deal."

"Correct, I leave you and yours alone," he answered, "but he is not yours, is he?"

I looked at Aya. He was still glaring at me and the phone with angry eyes. 

"As of now, they are," I promised.

Sanesuke made that breathy chuckle again. Gawd. He'd make great phone sex. Or a fantastic stalker.

"Prove it," he said, and I got dailtone. Shit. 

I hung up the phone, glaring at Aya.

"Well, I hope you're happy," I snapped. "You just bought yourself a one way ticket to hell."

He didn't answer. He spun on his heel and walked straight back into Asher's room. I wanted to know what had been said between him and the kid. Kannon watched him go and looked back to me with wide eyes. 

"Translate." I crossed my arms.

"Which part? The 'I'll have your head' part, or the 'you're already dead, you just don't know it yet' part?"

Shit!

"Zane." I looked to the tall man. "I can't take him with me."

Zane smiled, knowing what I meant. Jason's eyebrows perked up like upside down 'v's. 

I heard yelling coming from Asher's room and other voices rise in argument. Enough to wake the dead. I could suddenly see Asher getting up, scaring them to death and going back to sleep. 

I walked over to the door and opened it. Aya and Youji were glaring each other down, standing beside the bed. Goggles had sat up, one hand holding up the blanket, leaned over to yell as well. They all looked at me, silent, not changing position, just a turning of the head. 

"Keep it down." I put a finger in front of my lips in the international sign for shut up. Youji threw his hands up into the air and stalked into the adjoining bathroom. Goggles was staring at me, kind of with that look you might have on your face if you met up with a wolf in the woods while naked. 

Aya gave me an unhappy yet cold look. Distraught, while a little angry at the same time. Kinda like PMS. I turned around and closed the door. Zane cocked an eyebrow at me from the couch with a grin. 

"Don't let them leave," I told him. 

"Your wish is my command." He cackled.

"And don't eat them," I added quickly. Zane gave me a long-suffering look. 

"Kannon, Jason, you're coming with me," I told the two and they nodded. I looked to Cherry and Nathaniel, who had taken Kannon's place on the couch. 

"You two stay and help Zane," I told them. "And you might want to move Asher or them to Jason's bedroom or Nathaniel's room. I don't want them to open the coffin."

Cherry nodded. 

"But first, I'm going to change." I sighed. "I'll be back."

Yeah, me and the Terminator.

I returned in a pair of blue jeans and a simple blue blouse. Over that was the black windbreaker to hide my gun. Along with my knives and my machete. We were seeking shape shifters that might have committed brutal murders. Me, go unarmed? If I could, I would hide a bazooka somewhere. They needed to come out with a small totable version you could hide in your jacket.

I'd taken off the bandage on my cheek. I only had a red line that was healing left. It might be gone in two days. It scared me how fast I healed lately. Not as fast as a vampire or a shape shifter, but not like a human. 

I went back to Jason's room and saw Zane and Nathaniel holding the door to Asher's bedroom, loud slams coming from the other side.

"It starts." Zane chuckled at me.

I motioned at Kannon and Jason to follow me and we hurried down to the parking lot. We had to find the car again, and Kannon got in the driver's seat. We were just pulling out toward the front of the hotel when I saw a familiar redhead dashing out the front door after us. He jumped in front of the car and Kannon slammed on the breaks.

"Shit!" I snarled. Youji and Goggles came dashing out after him, Cherry and Nathaniel following. All were fully dressed again.

Aya slammed his hands down on the hood, glaring at me through the windshield. I clenched my teeth together to prevent telling Kannon to just run him over. Road rage, and I hadn't even left the parking lot.

Zane stumbled out of the main hotel door, his face a mask of blood. Cherry grabbed onto Youji's arms, and Nathaniel tackled Goggles, grabbing his arms and trying to twist them up behind his back. We were making a scene. I opened the door and got out.

"I can't take you with me, Aya," I told him. "Leave this to me."

Kannon leaned out the window and translated. Zane came up, and I saw his face had been opened from forehead to lips. I bet that had scared the hotel staff. It scared me. 

I wasn't sure where Aya had his sword, but I bet it was hidden in his jacket. Youji was snapping at Cherry, and Goggles was elbowing Nathaniel to the face repeatedly. It's never, ever, easy for me. But then again, if it was, I probably wouldn't trust it.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12.  
  
          Aya walked up to me, and glared down at me. I looked calmly back at him. It is so DAMN hard to look menacing when you're staring into your opponent's chest. Zane tried to grab Aya's arm and Aya jerked it free, then jerking it up to backhand fist him in the face. Zane was nearly thrown to the ground and I knew that had to have hurt Aya's hand. I grabbed his arm then. He turned his anger back to me, and I looked him in the eyes.  
  
          "Do not touch what is mine," I said slowly and carefully. I heard Kannon translate and Aya challenged me with his return stare. I tried to put everything I meant into my eyes. That I would kill him if he touched Zane again. That I was trying to help him. And that I wasn't going to take him along.  
  
          Aya jerked his arm from my grasp, eyes still cold. I was at a crossroads. I either had to put Aya in his place now, or leave him to fend for himself. Decisions, decisions. If he acknowledged my dominance, I could protect him. If he refused to, he was vampire food. Unless he could really cash the checks he was writing. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. I'd still be there to save his butt once something started chomping on him. And we'd have the big question answered.  
  
          "Okay, Aya, you can come," I told him, "but your friends stay here."  
  
          Kannon translated that, and Aya looked back to whom I was referring too. Youji was still squirming with Cherry, not wanting to actually hit her, and so, getting nowhere. Nathaniel had Goggles in a headlock, Goggles punching him in the ribs.  
  
          Aya snapped at them, and everyone paused. Zane crawled on his hands and knees to my feet and I knelt to look at his face. The slash had missed his left eye, following the nose, almost straight down. It was already starting to heal and close.  
  
          "I'm sorry," he murmured to me. I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him on a clean spot of his forehead.  
  
          "It's not your fault," I told him. "It appears Aya is a dominant, and we are going to find out. I don't blame you for not being able to stop him."  
  
          Zane almost kind of mewed and rubbed his face against the palm of my hand, smearing it with blood. I stood back up, bringing Zane back to his feet with me.  
  
          "Aya is coming with me," I told the others. "But the others will stay here."  
  
          Kannon translated that and Youji yelled angrily.  
  
          "Shut up!" I clapped my hands over my ears. "Nathaniel, Cherry, take them back upstairs. Keep them there."  
  
          Nathaniel nodded, and with a quick movement, slung Goggles over his shoulder. Goggles kicked and thrashed, yelling in Japanese, but Nathaniel just hauled him along like he weighed nothing at all. Youji was staring at us, eyes wide in shock as he was drug backwards by incredibly strong, slender arms around his waist. He got over the shock and snarled at Aya, eyes blazing betrayal.  
  
          "Cherry, clean up Zane's face, please," I called after her.  
  
          "Sure." Cherry nodded and Zane walked after them like a scolded puppy. I looked to Aya.  
  
          "Let's go."  
  
          He nodded and opened the backdoor of the car. I watched the others walk back into the hotel and hoped they made it up to the rooms without getting the cops called on them for holding hostages.  
  
          "So, where are we headed?" I asked as Kannon drove us through the streets.  
  
          "To a place I've seen that pard at sometimes," he explained. "It's kind of like a bar and a restaurant. Your average citizen doesn't go there. But first, we gotta get a present."  
  
          Of course. Just once, I'd like to go to a shape shifter hangout that was a high-class restaurant. And a present. I'd forgotten about that part. Shape shifters tended to be a demanding lot. Thank God one of us had his head in the right place.  
  
          Aya spoke up and Kannon answered him. Aya nodded and sat back. I watched him in the rearview mirror. He looked sullen, distracted. Jason occupied himself by watching out the window.  
  
          "Aya, what is the your teammate's name?" I asked.  
  
          Kannon translated and Aya raised his eyebrows. "Which one?"  
  
          "The one with the goggles."  
  
          "Ken."  
  
          That was a rather American sounding name. It surprised me. Of course I started to think about a certain doll called Barbie, but I think anyone would have.  
  
          "Why?"  
  
          I looked back to Aya. "I didn't know his name."  
  
          Aya was silent the rest of the way. Kannon took us to a small shop that looked like a hole in a wall really. The small concrete steps led down a few steps below street level. Inside the shop it was dim and musty, lit by candles and a couple weak lightbulbs. There was a tiny man just slightly shorter than me standing in the store. He had straggly white hair and was wearing some old fashioned Japanese outfit. You know, the ones with the poofy sleeves. I had a 'Gremlins' flashback and prayed I didn't find a Mogwai anywhere. But then again, Jason would probably eat it.  
  
          "What are we getting?" I asked Kannon after he spoke to the man. The shopkeeper smiled, and he was missing a few teeth. Kannon smiled at me as the ancient shopkeeper hobbled behind his counter.  
  
          "Have faith." He lifted his hand by his face as if telling me to just shut up. So Aya, Jason and I stood around, looking around the shop, looking like tourists. Well, at least Jason and I did. Aya looked like he needed to use the bathroom. Badly.  
  
          Assorted knick-knacks and curios filled tables and shelves. I picked up a fan and it fell open in my hand, revealing its white background and flying crane with cherry blossoms. I was examining what looked like a jade dragon with a ball in its mouth as the shopkeeper stepped back out with a sort of tray in his hands. He handed it to Kannon and money exchanged hands. Aya was out the door before we got near it.  
  
          "So, what did you get?" I asked in curiosity.  
  
          "Just a token." Kannon smiled. "It'll do."  
  
          The tray was about forearm length by forearm length, and it had a bit of weight to it. It was completely encased in thin wood, and it was driving me crazy. Too small for a Mogwai. I got to hold it in my lap as Kannon drove, and I desperately wanted to open it. I'm not normally this bad. It was the fact I was in Japan and it might be something I'd never seen before. Yeah. That's what it was.  
  
          We pulled up to a bar in the seedier part of town. There was a guy taking a leak in the alleyway, watering the wall. Inviting.  
  
          We climbed out of the car, and I noticed there was a sticky substance that had started to leak from the box onto my pants leg. I froze the moment I noticed it, and looked at the box, feeling my breath quicken.  
  
          "Kannon," I called.  
  
          "Hai?"  
  
          "The box is leaking on me, and if there is a human body part in here, I'm going to be very upset."  
  
          Kannon almost giggled. "It's not a human body part."  
  
          That much was a relief. But the answer left a lot of possibilities. Joy.  
  
          A dingy sign that badly needed to be replaced, or repainted, hung over the bar door in Japanese letters. The outside was stone and brick, and trash littered where the walls met the sidewalk.  
  
          I looked to Aya, who was studying the sign. "Aya, don't attack anyone unless they attack us first."  
  
          He nodded wordlessly, and Kannon opened the door. The inside was dim, cigarette smoke in the air. I coughed, and the patrons looked at us. I felt the power in the air, shape shifters. A Japanese bartender looked at us boredly. Kannon spoke, drawing attention back to him, and the bartender answered.  
  
          "He hasn't seen them today." Kannon looked back to me. A woman's voice came from the pool table, and Kannon spoke to her quietly, taking a small step back towards us.  
  
          She put the pool cue she had been holding down, and walked towards us. She wore ripped blue jeans with the whole right leg missing. The waist of the blue jeans started just below hip level, showing the straps of her underwear, and made the fact she was wearing a G-string painfully obvious. She wore a short shirt over it, baring a bit of tight stomach, like my penguin shirt. It was obvious she was not wearing a bra, and apparently it was cold in the bar for her. A navel ring shone in the light. She was a few inches taller than me, built slender like Asian women were. I bet I could have easily snapped those Barbie doll legs with a well-placed kick. Her hair was long and straight, dyed dark green. Her face was round and delicate. Wisps of green hair hung into that doll-like face, making her seem innocent and coy.  
  
          The power that radiated from her was anything but. It was nearly smothering, like trying to breathe through a warm cloth being placed over your face.  
  
          "This is Honyaku Tennyo." Kannon introduced us quietly, practically hiding under my arm. "She's the In."  
  
          "Werewolves?" I whispered to him.  
  
          "Tora," he whispered back.  
  
          Weretigers. I'd met one before. Her name had been Christine, and I hadn't wanted to piss her off.  
  
          "In, that's the leader?" I whispered quickly.  
  
          "The female one," was the reply.  
  
          "What does she want?"  
  
          Kannon looked up at me with wide luminous eyes that clearly said he was afraid and didn't have an answer. This one was on me. I could work with this. Just a little girl talk. Sure hope she didn't want to share fashion tips.  
  
          I stepped forward and she looked me up and down. Then she eyed the guys behind me. I didn't like the look. She looked hungry.  
  
          "I'm Anita Blake," I told her. "I'm the lupa for the Thronnos Roke Clan."  
  
          Kannon translated from behind me, and I watched Tennyo's eyes lift to look me in the face as it had suddenly become worthy of note. Her power began to recede, calming in the face of ritual. I could suddenly breathe easier.  
  
          "What makes us worthy of your presence?" Tennyo asked in a clear and strong voice. I knew sarcasm when I heard it.  
  
          "I've come seeking the foreign pard." I saw Tennyo's chest inflate rapidly several times in succession, and knew that she was sniffing. The mysterious box was still in my hands. I looked to Kannon.  
  
          "This was for the pard, right?" I whispered to him.  
  
          "It's for whoever," Kannon whispered. "Whoever will accept it in exchange for our blood."  
  
          I looked back to Tennyo. "The lupa of the Thronnos Roke Clan offers tribute."  
  
          I held the box out towards her. Her eyes strayed to the box, and she seemed to hesitate. I felt the power level in the room from the shape shifters almost tense up. Everyone was holding their breath, waiting for Tennyo to make up her mind.  
  
          Two slender hands reached out and took the box from my hands and the power level dropped, like every throat in the room had just let out a collective exhale. Tennyo smiled slightly at me as if she hadn't been expecting a present and began to open the box. I held my breath to see what it was. She lifted the top and whatever it was in the box was dark and almost jelly looking. She dropped the top of the box to the floor, dipped a finger into the mass, and then stuck it into her mouth. I almost flinched.  
  
          "What is it?" I whispered to Kannon. Tennyo smiled around her finger and pulled it out, licking the pads of her other fingers as well.  
  
          "It's a honeycomb."  
  
          I blinked. Honey? It was just honey? The other occupants of the bar moved forward, about seven of them, and Tennyo handed the box to the first one that reached her. It was a short, but very wide man that took the box for the Pride to share.  
  
          Tennyo continued licking her fingers and looking at us as the Pride members plunged fingers into the box, pulling out chunks of raw honeycomb and shoving them into mouths.  
  
          "What are we doing?" Aya hissed behind me.  
  
          "Shut up," I hissed back. His eyes narrowed, but I wasn't very worried about him right now. There were worse things in the room than assassins.  
  
          "Sufficient for them," Tennyo finally said, coyly, "but not for the In."  
  
          I took a big breath. Someone was getting a little too big for their G- string. Pride members were starting to slink closer, honey smeared on lips and fingers.  
  
          "What would please the In?" I asked. I wasn't in the mood to guess. Tennyo smiled beautifully.  
  
          She stepped closer to us till she was nearly touching me. I saw her arm reaching out to go behind me and I turned to see where it was going. Aya watched her hand approach and I grabbed her wrist. Dark eyes turned to me and her power flared, smashing into me almost like a physical blow.  
  
          "Mine," I hissed through my teeth, trying to breathe as my lungs wanted to constrict. She smiled and lifted her hand to where we could both see my hand on her wrist. I let go and she shifted her eyes to Jason. I stepped into her line of vision and met her dark eyes with mine. We were at a standoff. If I did anything to her, the Pride would kill us.  
  
          "You have nothing to offer worthy of the In of the Green River Pride?" she asked, and her eyes flashed luminescent in the light. I narrowed my eyes at her. I heard someone move quickly and looked back to see Jason skitter to the side as a Tora moved between us and the door. There went the option to leave. Looks like we might have to fight our way out if I can't think of something quick.  
  
          "Again, tell me what you want. But you cannot have my people."  
  
          "Then you have nothing to offer." She smirked at me, and the Tora moved closer. My hand slid for the Browning, and a low guttural growl trickled through the room. No human throat could have made that sound. Someone was on the verge of turning furry. This was going to be bad.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13.  
  
          "Wait!" Kannon moved from behind my elbow to stand in front of me, arms outstretched. "These people are in the service of Fujiwara Sanesuke- sama! If you hurt them, you must answer to the Master."  
  
          Tennyo lifted her face and laughed, and it bubbled like water. "She doesn't answer to a master. She is lupa, she is dominant."  
  
          He looked back to me to find my Browning pointed at her face. Kannon ducked back behind me, out of the way.  
  
          "Have your people back off or I will kill you."  
  
          "You won't make it out of here alive." She smiled knowingly.  
  
          "Yeah, but you're still dead." I stared her in the eyes. I heard metal sing and saw Aya's katana come into my peripheral vision.  
  
          "Samurai in this day and age." Tennyo licked her lips. "Grant me one thing and I will let you leave."  
  
          "What is that?" I asked.  
  
          "Him." She pointed at Aya. "Have the samurai present to me, and I will let you leave."  
  
          I looked to Aya, and he was stone-faced as if he hadn't heard the request.  
  
          "Aya?" I asked.  
  
          "Present?"  
  
          I looked from her him to her. "If you kiss her, she'll let us leave."  
  
          He blinked a moment. "Kiss her?"  
  
          "Well, you don't have to do it, we could fight our way out."  
  
          He watched Tennyo, who set her hand on her curving hip, watching him consider.  
  
          "I will not wait forever," she urged.  
  
          "Aya, make up your mind fast."  
  
          Aya lowered his sword, and I held my breath.  
  
          "Sheathe your katana," Tennyo instructed him, "and present to me."  
  
          The katana vanished back into Aya's coat and he stepped forward. I held my breath as he approached her. He was taller than her, and she looked up at him. She tilted her face up towards him, and I let my eyes shift to the other Tora in the room. All of them were watching, waiting.  
  
          I looked back to Tennyo and Aya, and his head was lowered to hers. Then he abruptly stepped back, lifting his head.  
  
          "You call that a kiss?!" Tennyo screamed and her hands shot out to grab him. The Tora surged towards us and I shot the one closest to us. The Tora fell back, and the others pushed forward past him. Jason pushed past my elbow to meet them.  
  
          "Silence!!"  
  
          The whole room froze at the booming voice that nearly knocked me off my feet. The single word seemed to resonate through my chest. A large, no, huge man stood in the doorway to the back of the bar. He wore a muscle shirt, baring huge arms, and his pants were biker's leathers. His hair was short and dyed green. Power flowed around him, like that shimmering of heat waves in the summer. And he didn't seem to be doing it on purpose.  
  
          Tennyo had hold of Aya's hair, nearly bending him over backwards. His hand was on his was on the hilt of his katana, the weapon half drawn. Tennyo let go of Aya, and he stepped quickly away from her. The man walked up beside Tennyo, looking at us.  
  
          "The Yo," Kannon whispered to me. Yo? Must be the Alpha male.  
  
          "What disturbs my rest?" the Yo rumbled through his chest.  
  
          "I am Anita Blake, the lupa for the Thronnos Roke Clan."  
  
          "I am Honyaku Shinji, I am the Yo," he rumbled back.  
  
          "We are seeking the foreign pard," I explained.  
  
          "I know where they are." Dark eyes studied me.  
  
          "I'd offer you tribute, but I've already presented twice."  
  
          Shinji looked to Tennyo. Tennyo pouted her lips at him.  
  
          "It was not worthy of the In."  
  
          "You have gotten greedy, Tennyo," he snarled at her, and he looked at the Tora I had shot, who was still laying on the floor, coughing up blood. I'd shot him in the chest, and his lungs were struggling to heal. At least it hadn't been silver shot. The silver bullets were in my backup clip.  
  
          Shinji stroked a hand over Tennyo's hair and looked across the other Tora. The Tora quickly backed off, including the one behind us.  
  
          "You have followed ritual, and my In was rude. To atone for this, I myself will take you to the foreign pard," he said to me.  
  
          I let out a breath I hadn't been aware I was holding. "I am grateful."  
  
          I holstered the Browning and Jason opened the door behind us. We backed out of the bar, with Shinji following.  
  
          "Wait." Shinji walked back down the alley, and we climbed into the car.  
  
          Kannon was muttering to himself as he pulled on his seatbelt. I turned to look at Aya. He looked back at me, face blank.  
  
          "Don't worry about it," I told him. "She didn't plan to let us go anyway."  
  
          His eyes flicked to the window. I don't really know if he had taken the incident as an insult to his kissing abilities, but still felt I should have said something. Shinji came back into view, pushing a motorcycle. Kannon started the car and we tailed the tiger.  
  
          Shinji led us through the busy streets. I was so glad I wasn't driving. Even in the passenger seat, the traffic gave me road rage. I guess this is how it feels to drive in Los Angeles. Now I can understand the shootings.  
  
          After fighting the traffic, Shinji led us into a park area that was nearer my hotel. Figures, they had to be next door, and I'd come all the way through this. He pulled over in a parking lot and we parked next to him.  
  
          "Meiji jingu." He pointed ahead at a building I could see in amidst the trees.  
  
          "It's a temple," Kannon explained. Great, time to see if I can insult their religion too. Shinji stepped ahead and we followed. Aya seemed agitated, constantly looking around as if he wanted to be done and out of here.  
  
          "Should we have tribute?" I asked Kannon. Kannon looked to me, at a loss. I glanced around us and pulled a red blossom off a bush. It was really the fact that we offered something that was more important what was it was. I hoped, anyway. Hope I didn't just desecrate some sacred bush.  
  
          "That's them." Kannon pointed. A group of folks in between the trees of the park. Three males and one female. The female was in a pink kimono-looking thing, with long white-ish hair that flowed down over her shoulders. She was gently wrestling with a tow-headed male in a red jacket and black pants. Another pale haired male in a tight, white outfit sat next to them on a bench, resting his arms on the back of the bench and watching the wrestling two. The third male didn't have pale hair, but dark red hair, dressed all in black leather and it seemed like he was trying to join in on the wrestling match.  
  
          They all paused and looked to us as we neared.  
  
          "Shinji." The male in black leather stood. His hair was a little longer than Aya's and he was thin. Painfully thin, and not much taller than me. Yellow eyes glittered through his dark red bangs. His arms were bare, slender silver chains hanging around his hips.  
  
          Shinji nodded at him and Kannon smiled. Shinji spoke in Japanese to the leather-clad male as we waited. The other three watched us, the wrestling two separating and getting to their feet. I'd have guessed the girl at around sixteen or seventeen, lovely as a child's doll. Her pale hair seemed to have a pink tint, possibly reflection off of her kimono. Her eyes were a cobalt blue in a light skinned face. Her hair had been twisted into extravagant loops and pinned to her head, then trailing down her back, thin pastel ribbons running through it. Tiny chimes jingled amid the ribbons as she moved.  
  
          Hovering beside her, crouched with one hand down, was her wrestling partner. His hair was white with butter undertones. His face didn't have the childlike roundness the girl's did, but there was something about his dark blue eyes, the wide, almost blank look he had. The eyes you see on young children. He was a bit more fleshed out than the black-clad male, and seemed healthier.  
  
          The last male was probably the tallest in the group, and the palest. His skin was pallid. So pallid I could practically see his veins through his skin. Albino was my guess. He'd streaked his equally pale hair with strands of lavender and orchid. His eyes looked purple, probably from the play of blue and capillaries, peering out suspiciously through the colored bangs that hung half way down his face. His all white clothing further paled him. It made him almost too bright to look at in the sunlight. A small silver bell shone at his throat. None of them looked like murderers, but appearances could be very deceiving.  
  
          "Anita Blake?" The leather-clad wereleopard looked to me finally.  
  
          "You speak English?" I asked in relief. He nodded.  
  
          "My part is done," Shinji said quietly.  
  
          "Thank you, Yo. I am grateful." I nodded respectfully at him. He returned the nod, and returned to his motorcycle.  
  
          "I am Rune, Nimir-Raj of this pard," the wereleopard said pleasantly. "What can we do for you?"  
  
          "Rune, I am Anita Blake, lupa of the Thronnos Roke clan. I need your help. Sanesuke has kidnapped a child. I need your help to get him back."  
  
          I held out the flower to him with both hands, waiting to see if he was going to laugh at me. Instead, I watched Rune's golden eyes soften as he took the flower carefully from my hands, and wondered briefly if he and Kannon had been separated at birth.  
  
          "A child? What can WE do?" he asked, looking up from gazing at the blossom cupped in his hands.  
  
          "Sanesuke wishes to meet with you."  
  
          He looked around quickly with just his eyes. "We will not stay to be his slaves. We aren't staying that long."  
  
          "We've already told Sanesuke we aren't interested," the albino male spoke up.  
  
          "Please, just come talk to him for the child," I said seriously. "After we get the child, I'll make sure you do not have to stay."  
  
          "Sanesuke is mean," the female spoke up, sounding quite young. I wondered how old she really was. The whole group was young. In America, I bet they were illegal.  
  
          "What interest do we have in a child?" the albino male asked again.  
  
          "A child held prisoner by Sanesuke, and most likely to die if you refuse," I said earnestly. Rune looked to Kannon, who nodded back. Shape shifters can smell a lie, but I guess he wanted confirmation from another shape shifter.  
  
          "I don't know why Sanesuke wants to see you so badly, but it's my people and that child on the line if you won't speak to him," I pressed.  
  
          "We don't owe you anything." The albino male frowned.  
  
          "Synne!" the girl scolded.  
  
          "I speak for the pard." Rune turned his topaz stare on his pard member. Synne shrugged and lowered his head.  
  
          "Just as you seek to protect your people, I seek to protect mine. Tell me why, Miss Blake. Tell me why I should lead my people into danger for yours." Rune looked at me intently.  
  
          I bit my lip. I'd have felt the same way. Five pairs of eyes stared at me as I tried to put my thoughts into words.  
  
          "It's true you have no obligation to help me and endanger your people. But I will do anything for my people. Even ask you to endanger yours." I stared back at him. "I will not abandon you to him, Rune. Because I ask you to do this for me, I will ensure you leave."  
  
          Rune stared at me intently, as if weighing whether or not I could be trusted. I could tell that he had a good heart that he even considered my request. It was highly refreshing to meet a dominant that was so friendly. And maybe why he kept the pard moving. His friendliness was probably a downfall in the long run.  
  
          "Tomorrow, Miss Blake," he said finally. Meet us here tomorrow morning, eight o'clock, and I will tell you our decision. I must speak with my pard."  
  
          "Thank you, Rune." I nodded. I hated waiting longer, but at least it wasn't a no.  
  
          "And thank you for the gift." Rune smiled, lifting the blossom. He had fangs, upper and lower. Small, but there. I had to smile back, and turned to lead the others back for the car.  
  
          Aya rumbled and Kannon translated. "So they agreed?"  
  
          "No yet, they have to decide. They'll tell us tomorrow."  
  
          "Tomorrow?" Aya hissed.  
  
          "They haven't said 'no', so stow it, Aya. It's diplomacy right now. When it comes time to hack and slash, I'll let you know."  
  
          He glared at me and rolled my eyes. That glare must work well for him in normal life, since he liked it so much. That's right, the glare would work well on a customer shopping for flowers. I'm sure they had repeat business.  
  
          "Where to now?" Jason asked as he slid into the back seat next to Aya.  
  
          "I guess we go home and wait till tomorrow," I sighed, leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes. "I just wanted a vacation. Just a vacation."  
  
          "Would you like to meet my people?" Kannon asked as he started the car. "As my guests. No power plays or formalities. We'll have a good lunch together."  
  
          It sounded too good to be true. "Where?"  
  
          "They stay in an old temple in the mountains outside of the city. My mother, that is. She's a caretaker for the place. My sisters are visiting. I'm sure they'd be glad to meet you."  
  
          "Really?" Jason leaned forward, gripping the back of Kannon's seat. "Your sisters are single?"  
  
          Kannon laughed. "No, they're both married."  
  
          "Better luck next time, Jason." I had to laugh at his crestfallen look. Then I saw Aya. His arms were crossed and he was staring out the window with a very aggravated look.  
  
          "Fiber, Aya." I crossed my arms on the back of my seat. Kannon turned to look and started laughing, joined by Jason. Aya turned to glare at me again, then look at the others. He turned back to glare at me, and I blew him a kiss before I turned back around to face front. With all the aggravation he was causing me, I figured giving a little back was fair.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14.  
  
          "Let's go tell the others and then decide what to do," I suggested as Kannon pulled into traffic. "And I sure hope we haven't got the cops called on us."  
  
          Jason nodded at me, understanding fully what I've been through before. I've had to move once because I didn't want to put my neighbors into anymore danger. I'd had killer zombies and an assassin come after me in my apartment. It kinda puts a damper on your relationship with your neighbors when a bullet accidentally goes through the wall. And here, well, a bloody faced wereleopard and two more dragging what looks like helpless victims back to their hotel room probably doesn't look too good either.  
  
          We got back to the hotel without incident and hurried back up to our rooms. I flung open Jason's door.  
  
          "Cherry! Nathaniel! Zane! We met the pard and...."  
  
          I stared at the room. It was a mess. The others stopped behind me. The couch was over turned, and the table tipped over on its side, a leg broken off. The TV screen was smashed in and blood marked the glass. Pillows and other miscellaneous items were thrown about. The windows were open, the breeze fluttering the curtains.  
  
          The assassins had escaped, and the pard had gone after them.  
  
          "Kannon, Jason, check Nathaniel's room."  
  
          They nodded and I turned to go to my hotel room. I pressed my ear to the door and found it was quiet. I unlocked the door, knelt down, feeling a sense of déjà vu. How long ago was it I was doing this very same thing and the blast of a shotgun had roared over my head? The Browning was in my hand in an instant.  
  
          I pushed open the door on my knees, and the room was quiet. The windows to this room were open too, but there was no carnage.  
  
          "Anita, I smell strangers in these rooms," Jason called from the other room. I hurried back, gun pointed.  
  
          "They're not here now, but there were strangers here," Jason said, noisily sniffing the air in the doorway to Nathaniel's room. This room wasn't destroyed, but the windows were open. "People I don't know were here. Lots of them."  
  
          Kannon sniffed and wrinkled his nose. "The monkeys."  
  
          "The what?" I demanded.  
  
          "That's the smell of the monkeys. The Saru." Kannon's eyes widened. "They've taken your friends."  
  
          "Why?" I turned on him. "Why?"  
  
          "They're the army." Kannon backed away from me. "Sanesuke must have sent them to get your friends."  
  
          "Saru?" Aya asked.  
  
          "Asher!" I suddenly remembered the sleeping vampire and stepped into the other room, gun out. Jason said the room was empty, but I was nervous, dammit! I opened the door to the bedroom on my knees again, and found the coffin was gone.  
  
          "Anita?" Jason had dropped to his knees beside me, clearly at a loss as I tried to collect my thoughts.  
  
          "Kannon." I got up, stroking Jason's golden hair once for reassurance. "Get Sanesuke on the phone."  
  
          Kannon was staring, wide eyed, but jumped to get the phone. Aya was staring at me. The look in his narrowed eyes was not kind.  
  
          "I fucked up, Aya!" I snapped at him. "Is that what you want me to say?"  
  
          He narrowed his eyes at me further, turning them into lavender slits, and turned his back on me in a swish of dark jacket, heading to look into the bedroom.  
  
          "Anita?" Kannon held out the phone to me.  
  
          "Sanesuke?" I demanded. He laughed on the other end.  
  
          "You sound upset, Blake-san."  
  
          "You bet your ass I am! What is with kidnapping my people?"  
  
          There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Kidnapping your people, Blake-san?"  
  
          "Why did you send your Saru to kidnap my people?" I demanded.  
  
          He paused again. "I do not know what you are speaking of, Blake-san."  
  
          It was my turn to pause. Vampires can lie and pass a lie detector test, and smile during the whole session. But Sanesuke seemed to be quite proud of what he managed to pull off.  
  
          "If you didn't call the Saru after my people, who did, Sanesuke?" I asked quietly.  
  
          "I do not know, Blake-san. I have no need to take your people. This was not my doing, Blake-san."  
  
          "Can you talk to the Saru and find out why?"  
  
          "And why should I do this, Blake-san?"  
  
          I paused. "'Cause I made contact with your wereleopards, and I'll probably be bringing them to meet you tomorrow."  
  
          "Probably?"  
  
          "They haven't decided yet."  
  
          "I see. Then call me again tomorrow about this matter."  
  
          The bastard hung up.  
  
          "Fuck!" I slammed the receiver down in its cradle.  
  
          "That's not good." Jason looked at me worriedly.  
  
          "Sanesuke says he didn't send them, but he won't help us either." I realized I was waving the gun around and holstered it.  
  
          "So what do we do?" Jason asked timidly.  
  
          "We find these Saru and kick the shit out of them." I snarled. "Kannon. Do you know where they are?"  
  
          Kannon looked nervous. "Yes?"  
  
          "Yes, but?" I asked.  
  
          "They're not keen on strangers." Kannon looked quite nervous now.  
  
          "Well they've brought this on themselves."  
  
          I paused to hear the phone ringing in my hotel room. Only person knew the number. That I knew of.  
  
          I raced for my room, pushing the open door all the way open and running for the phone. I jumped when the counter splintered and exploded in front of my hand. The sound was minimal, silencer.  
  
          "It's bad to be late to your own death."  
  
          I turned my head slowly and saw Schuldig leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom, gun in hand. My hand slid for the Browning.  
  
          "Ah ah," Schuldig warned, motioning with the silencer of his gun. "Hands up."  
  
          He moved his other hand into view from behind himself, and in it was Sigmund. I felt my breath catch as he pressed the silencer to the side of the stuffed penguin's head. "No funny business."  
  
          I lifted my hands as the phone kept ringing. Sigmund had been with me forever. He was like my child, as twisted and disturbed as that sounds. Sure, I could get him sewn up from a bullethole, and Schuldig had me whether he held Sigmund hostage or not, but I didn't want him to shoot my penguin.  
  
          "Back up." Schuldig motioned with his head, a small reverse-nodding movement. "Close the door."  
  
          I did, stepping back and closing the door with my foot. Then the other man stepped out of the bedroom behind Schuldig. The man in the white suit from the restaurant. He stepped forward towards me, picking up the phone and putting it right back down in the cradle.  
  
          "It's a pleasure, Ms. Blake," he said in perfect English.  
  
          "Wish I could say the same." I watched his hands. No weapons visible, but that didn't mean much.  
  
          "I'd like to ask you a few questions, Ms. Blake," he said calmly as ever, stepping towards me. "But first, up against the door."  
  
          I stepped back until I felt the door against my back.  
  
          "Press your hands against the door. Above your head, please."  
  
          I did so and he reached out to remove the Browning, tossing it onto the counter by the phone.  
  
          "Now we may speak civilly."  
  
          I found myself amazed he didn't search me completely, and felt hope about the fact I still had all my other weapons.  
  
          "Oh really?" Schuldig grinned, stepping forward. "Crawford, she's not disarmed."  
  
          I'd forgotten. Stupid me. He read my thoughts.  
  
          "Turn and face the door," Crawford said, motioning his fingers in a rotating motion and I turned.  
  
          He pressed me up against the door with a hand to the back of my neck and found the machete right away. As he relieved me of my knives and the Firestar, I found myself praying that the others would come to wonder how I was doing.  
  
          "Hurry, Crawford, her friends are just a room over."  
  
          Shit. I had to stop thinking.  
  
          "So, Ms. Blake. I hear you are in league with the Undertaker." Crawford said as he unstrapped my left knife from my arm, using his body to trap me against the door.  
  
          "I have no idea who the Undertaker is." I clenched my teeth as he took my last weapon from me.  
  
          "Really?" Crawford asked as he stepped back. "You may lower your arms, Ms. Blake."  
  
          I was grateful for that small mercy.  
  
          "Turn to face me, Ms. Blake, but keep your hands in the open."  
  
          I obliged and met his light brown eyes that studied me through his glasses.  
  
          "You're Crawford of Schwarz," I said, trying to buy time.  
  
          He nodded slightly, his facial expression not giving away any surprise that I knew anything about them.  
  
          "And you've been told to kill me," I continued.  
  
          He nodded again.  
  
          "By whom?"  
  
          He blinked almost lazily at me. "That cannot be shared."  
  
          "Grant a woman her last request!" I snarled. "I need to know who to curse with my dying breath."  
  
          He chuckled at that, closing his eyes briefly, then looked back at me. "No."  
  
          Okay, this was a guy you couldn't press easily. Schuldig had stepped forward to stand on the opposite side of the counter from me, for cover, and to avoid having Crawford in his line of fire. Professionals.  
  
          "Ms. Blake, we don't have much time and I'd rather you talk now than after a few bullets." Crawford gave me a condescending look.  
  
          "I've all the time in the world." I shrugged.  
  
          "No, my dear, you don't," Crawford pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with a finger. "You only have the time I give you. And really, Ms. Blake, from what I'd heard about you, I hadn't expected this to be so easy. The Undertaker has been lagging in his training."  
  
          "Who the hell is the Undertaker?" I demanded.  
  
          Crawford paused to study me again. "Perhaps he has not told you his name. Let me paint you his picture. Blond hair, blue eyes, assassin."  
  
          My eyes widened. Edward.  
  
          "We got a winner," Schuldig chuckled.  
  
          "So he chose not to share his name with you, interesting." Crawford tilted his head.  
  
          "You know Edward?" I stared at him.  
  
          "Edward. So he is the one that trains you."  
  
          "He doesn't train me." I narrowed my eyes. "He's my friend."  
  
          Crawford chuckled. "The Undertaker has no friends. You are his lover, perhaps?"  
  
          That startled me. "No."  
  
          "She's not lying, Crawford," Schuldig said boredly, making Sigmund dance on the counter. He was pissing me off.  
  
          "Ally then," Crawford sighed. "Where is he?"  
  
          "That was probably him you just hung up on the phone." I nodded towards the phone. Crawford turned to look and suddenly his head turned back to look at the door that connected mine to Jason's, just before it slammed open.  
  
          "Anita!" Jason cried before he took two bullets to the chest. A dark shape darted forward from behind him and Crawford jumped back in time to miss being slashed by a katana. I threw myself at the counter, reaching for anything I could grab. I found myself staring down the barrel of Schuldig's silencer.  
  
          "Tschüß." [1]  
  
          As his finger tightened on the trigger, the wood of the counter exploded between us, sending Schuldig's arm flying up and the shot into the ceiling. It sent me flying back to land on my butt on the floor, my face stinging from splinters.  
  
          I felt a hand grab onto my arm and slammed my palm at where I guessed the face to be. A hand caught mine and I found myself looking up into Kannon's golden eyes before he looked away from me, back at Schuldig. A wooden cupboard door exploded near the surprised German's head, a good chunk striking him in the side of the head, sending him down to his knees behind the counter.  
  
          Aya swung again at Crawford, who dodged it with a surprising grace, falling into what looked like some kind of martial arts stance. The phone started to ring again, and just added to the chaos. Kannon let go of my arm and hopped onto the counter to go after Schuldig. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my teary vision and saw the machete was on the floor, having been knocked off from when the counter exploded. I grabbed for it and lurched to my feet, taking the handle of the machete in both hands and sliding the sheath off.  
  
          I saw Aya stagger as Crawford landed a punch to his jaw. I heard snarling behind the counter. Jason lay on the floor by the door, lifting his head and trying to get up. I dashed for Crawford first, swinging the machete as hard as I could at his arm. The machete went flying out of my hands as his foot met me halfway and a quick rotation of his body brought his other foot in contact with the side of my head.  
  
          As my head hit the floor, I realized he wore Oxfords, good shoes, and my vision whitened out. It was like having paint poured into my eyes. It flared from the center and spread out to consume the rest of my vision. My hearing fuzzed to a buzzing and I couldn't hear anything going on around me anymore. All I could do was pant to control the pain as my head rung and I waited for my vision to come back into focus.  
  
          I hate being helpless. It's the sensation I hate more than anything. When you feel helpless, it's usually before you die. I was never the type to just lie down and die. Knowing I'm going to die usually pisses me off.  
  
          I heard a sound finally creep into the edges of my hearing. A high annoying sound that kept repeating. I blinked and started to see shades of gray on white. I just needed time. The head injury from last night was probably what made this as bad as it was.  
  
          The healing seemed to kick in and my vision quickly darkened and focused. I now recognized the sound. The phone. It was either the hotel manager telling me to get out of his hotel, or it was Edward.  
  
          I realized then that the room was quiet. I pushed myself up with my arms and looked around for the assassins that had so recently surrounded me. The room was empty. I was the only one in it, as if it had always been so. But if it had all been a dream, I was NOT paying for the damages.  
  
          I pushed to my feet from all fours, holding the counter to stay steady. I grabbed my guns when I found them on the counter edges, shoving the Firestar down the front of my pants and holding the Browning in my hand as I reached for the still screaming phone.  
  
          "Hello?" I asked, glad my voice was steady.  
  
          "Why'd you hang up on me?"  
  
          It was Edward. "I didn't. Someone calling you the Undertaker did."  
  
          He fell silent, then: "Describe him."  
  
          "Tall, dark, handsome, glasses, by the name of Crawford." I rubbed the side of my head where he'd kicked me and found a little lump. Bastard.  
  
          "Get out of your hotel room."  
  
          "Where do I go?" I'd planned to anyway, but he might have a good idea of where to go.  
  
          "Do you have my answering service number?"  
  
          "Yes."  
  
          "Then tell me where you are when you get there. If you had plans, Anita, change them."  
  
          "Edward, who is he?"  
  
          "Dangerous."  
  
          The bastard hung up again. I heard a sound and dropped the phone, pointing the Browning two-handed.  
  
          "Anita?" It was Jason's voice.  
  
          "Come in, Jason." I kept the Browning up.  
  
          Jason stepped in, hands lifted, showing me he was unarmed. It was really pointless for a werewolf to do that, but it was a comforting gesture. He'd smelled that I had the gun out. They knew me too well.  
  
          "Jason, where are they?" I demanded, hanging up the phone as I reholstered the gun. I remembered Sigmund and hurried around the counter to find the poor thing covered in wood splinters and dusted it off, hugging it to my chest.  
  
          "Kannon and Aya took them on and they ran. I came back for you when they went down the stairs," Jason reported.  
  
          "Are you okay?" I met him at the doorway, holding Sigmund with one arm, and examining the holes and black-looking bloodstains in his dark blue dress shirt.  
  
          "I'm fine, it was lead bullets." He grinned at me, looking down at Sigmund. He literally tore the shirt off, grabbed it with his fingers and the cloth parted under supernatural strength. I resisted the urge to look away as he dropped the mangled rags on the floor. He'd been working out, trying to look older and more dangerous. He'd ever succeed. He was too short. No matter how much iron he pumped, he'd simply look like a miniature version of whatever look he was aiming for.  
  
          Blood marked the wounds, one under his left nipple and the other near the center of the sternum. Both were fatal wounds. He wiped the blood off his skin with his fingers, revealing the pink new skin underneath. I finally turned away when he started licking his own blood from his fingers. I suppose it was better than licking someone else's blood, but the amount he was licking from his hand was enough to make my 'ick scale'.  
  
          I turned again as Kannon hurried back into the room, blood-flecked and breathing excitedly. "They got away."  
  
          "Where's Aya?" I asked before the man himself strolled into the room like a thundercloud. He seemed to bring darkness into the room with him. Mr. Sunshine, he was.  
  
          "Kannon, whose blood is that?"  
  
          "Not mine." He grinned.  
  
          "Tell Aya that we're getting out of here. If he can help pack the other room, I'd appreciate it," I said. Kannon seemed invigorated, his eyes were bright and glittering, and he couldn't seem to hold still, despite the blood flecked on his arms and face. He translated to Aya, who muttered so deeply in response, I didn't catch it.  
  
          "He says we wants his friends back and why the hell are we not getting them?" Kannon translated as he licked his arm clean, like a cat or a child with an ice cream cone.  
  
          "Tell him to shut the hell up cause my people are missing too," I snarled. Aya turned his gaze away from me and I went for my bedroom to pack. Let Aya be stubborn. The moment he became a liability, I'd dump him in a box somewhere like an abandoned kitten.  
  
          I heard a door slam and glanced back to see Aya had left, and what seemed to be fetish foreplay. Jason and Kannon were sharing the blood smeared on each other's fingers and skin, and seemed to be enjoying it a little too much for my comfort. Telling them to get a hotel room was redundant. Sigmund and I simply turned and walked back into my bedroom.  
  
  
  
[1] Goodbye


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15.  
  
          When I'd packed up everything and stepped out, Jason and Kannon were making a small pile of everyone's bags and suitcases. The trucks were Asher's.  
  
          "Blake-san," Kannon called, carrying a gym bag, "to spare seeking another hotel and putting it under threat, I insist you come and stay with my family."  
  
          "Isn't that imposing?" I asked.  
  
          "My mother will not mind. It means I am home with her. And it is safer for all involved." He nodded vigorously as if he hoped I'd copy him.  
  
          "You're sure?"  
  
          "Anita." Jason's cornflower blue eyes peered over a trunk as he carried it out of the bedroom. "He said he insisted. So go with it."  
  
          I had to smile and sighed, nodding. "Okay, Kannon, thank you. Do you have a phone there?"  
  
          "Hai!" He nodded and almost bounced back into the bedroom. Ahh, shape shifters. Why didn't I have that kind of energy?  
  
          We left the packing to Jason as Kannon helped me explain there was damage to the rooms and figure out how much I owed to cover it. I didn't blame the guy for sounding shocked when the damage was described. And he was sure glad we were leaving. Kannon and Jason sniffed over the taxi that came to help transport the bags, and the Nissan for anything dangerous. I couldn't help but smile when I thought of the taxi driver's reaction to getting a sniff down.  
  
          I looked briefly around for any sign of Aya before I climbed into the Nissan with Kannon. There was none. Either he was going to end up surprising me later, or I'd have to save him. Either way, I was sure we'd run across him again.  
  
          The trip took us out of the city and into mountainous country. We ended up on a dirt road winding through the trees. A mist sat low in the trees even in midday, darkening the area and making it all the more mysterious. It was quite beautiful, actually. Then again, considering the day I had just had, a stroll through the restroom of a high security prison would be quaint in comparison.  
  
          "There." Kannon pointed out the windshield. "See the temple?"  
  
          I strained my eyes to catch the roof edges through the misted out trees. As we pulled closer, I saw the walls and rooftops of the temple. Then we turned a bend and crossed a bridge that was simply planks laid a cross a small stream. I didn't think the planks would hold the weight of the cars, but we scooted across safely. In front of us was the open yard of the temple.  
  
          It was maybe one and a half stories tall, with wooden planking between faded, red and green painted runners on each bend of the roof that curled back on themselves like squirrel tails. Large sliding doors in that lattice box style and backed with what I supposed was rice paper, was the first thing you noticed on the front of the temple. A raised patio seemed to run around the whole of it, a small set of steps leading up to patio level. In general, it seemed ancient and mystical, like stepping back into history.  
  
          A couple of tiny chickens hurried back into the yard of the temple as we pulled up. I realized with a little smirk that if those chickens turned out to be werechickens, I would not be very surprised at all. Kannon pulled to a stop just as both cars reached the other side of the bridge.  
  
          "Wait here," he told me before helping the taxi unload our luggage and Jason. I waited in the car. I just knew if I stepped out before he said, I'd step in and ruin some ancient, mystical dirt or something.  
  
          Finally, after the taxi had departed, Kannon let me out of the car. I stepped out carefully, looking at the temple. No one seemed to be home. It was just us, the stream, and the call of mountain birds. This was the kind of place you visualized if you were trying to meditate. I guess Kannon was trying to tempt fate, or perhaps he was trying to see if there really was a higher being organizing things up there and things didn't happen just by pure accident, because after all that's happened he should have realized that Anita Blake plus peaceful, quiet vacation equals weresquirrels running amuck and food that slides off of your chopstick when you try to pick it up.  
  
          "Leave the luggage here, my family will help us later," Kannon instructed, and stepped for the yard. Jason grabbed my hand and I let him hold onto it as we walked into the yard after the werefox. Later, if I behaved myself and was a good world-class vampire hunter, he might even let me cut my food all by myself!  
  
          Kannon called to the temple and hurried to the bottom of the steps. One of the sliding doors opened, and I blinked rapidly, trying to take in what I was seeing. Something that seemed to glow white stood in the doorway of the temple. It had a human shape, and I could see it was wearing baggy clothing that looked traditional. Something white draped from the head of the figure and hung nearly to the floor.  
  
          It stepped out into more direct light and I just stared. I was staring at a vampire. It had to be. The white draping stuff was hair that hung down to about knee level, tied off in several places down its length, but it foamed around the head, framing the face. The face was angular with a square jaw, which was one of the only clues it was male. He could have been the pale version of Jean Claude. His traditional clothes were in light grays and blues, swishing as he moved, stopping just short of the ground, where I could see his sandaled feet and white socks.  
  
          Jason was sniffing as the stranger approached the edge of the patio. I guess it was wider than I had originally thought.  
  
          "Dominant," Jason whispered.  
  
          "Vampire?" I asked.  
  
          "Werefox." He squeezed my hand and I squeezed back. The dominant stepped down the steps to Kannon's level and the two embraced, rubbing cheeks.  
  
          I heard them converse, then Kannon turned out of the embrace to wave us forward.  
  
          "Blake-san, Jason-san, this is my 'nii-san'. My older brother." Kannon introduced. "No ritual or formalities."  
  
          Brother?! They looked nothing alike! I bit my tongue and tried to bow politely.  
  
          Kannon introduced us to his brother in their language, and before I could defend myself, I was clasped to a werefox's chest and cheek rubbed. Slapping him and shrieking was really uncalled for, so I tolerated it. Jason was molested after I was released, and we seemed to have been accepted. Who said Japanese society was unfriendly towards strangers? A grope here, a squeeze there and you're practically family.  
  
          The dominant turned and called to the temple. I nudged Kannon, whispering: "What do I call him?"  
  
          "Seishi."  
  
          "That's his first name?"  
  
          "Yes. Our last name is Kagegami. My sisters are Satomi and Sanaya. My mother is Rumiko."  
  
          "So what do I call your father?"  
  
          Kannon lowered his eyes before answering. "He's dead."  
  
          Shit. "I'm sorry."  
  
          "It's not your fault." Kannon flashed me a smile. "You can call my mother 'Okaa-san'."  
  
          "Okaa-san?"  
  
          "It means 'mother'." He smiled wider. "She is mother to all here, so visitors call her 'mother' too."  
  
          Oh. Okay. I didn't know if I was going to like this. I didn't even call my stepmother 'Mother'. My mother had died when I was eight years old in a car crash. And Judith was not a replacement. My mother had been small, Hispanic, and dark. Judith was a Nordic ice princess. When Judith entered the family, I had been the one that didn't seem to fit in. Everyone else was tall and blonde. I'd hated when people had asked Judith if I had been adopted. It hurt. I remember my father hugging my real mother and calling her the most beautiful woman in he world. If he thought that way, why didn't he marry another small, dark woman like her?  
  
          I heard a yip that startled me out of my musing and a black fox the size of a cocker spaniel hopped down the steps, sniffing my leg. This was Kannon's version of Lassie, I'm guessing.  
  
          "Yoshio!" Kannon laughed and grabbed the fox, scooping it up into his arms. He held it like a baby, legs up in the air, and it licked his face eagerly.  
  
          "This is Yoshio." Kannon turned his head away to discourage the licking. "This is little brother."  
  
          I looked at the fox in his arms and it blinked golden eyes at me. Then the jaws parted and showed me pink tongue as it panted like a dog.  
  
          "Nice to meet you, Yoshio," I said uncertainly, shaking a paw. It leaned over and tried to lick my face. I stepped back quickly. A face treatment of drying fox slobber was not on the agenda today.  
  
          Kannon dumped the fox out of his arms and it landed with a yelp, then started to gnaw on his leg.  
  
          "Yoshio is ten years old," Kannon whispered to me. "He's still not good with his manners."  
  
          "Ahh..." I started to nod and froze. Ten years old? I felt suddenly very uncomfortable.  
  
          "It's not what you think." Kannon must have smelt my unease. "We kitsune are not like your werewolves. We do not become kitsune if we are scratched or bitten. You are born kitsune, or not at all."  
  
          A breeding line of shape shifters. This was something never mentioned in my preternatural biology class. I suddenly had a Jacques Costeau moment.  
  
          "I'll explain more later, come inside." Kannon waved us to follow him as he started up the steps, dragging a black fox that still had its teeth embedded in his pants leg.  
  
          The main room we stepped into was spacious and lit by candles and lanterns. I saw that they had light fixtures with bulbs in them, but I guess they felt more comfortable going old fashioned.  
  
          "Shoes off." Kannon motioned to our feet as he slipped his own off around a snarling werefox cub. We were working on obeying when Kannon suddenly yelled "Hanase!" and sent the werefox cub sliding across the smooth wood floor.  
  
          I blinked at the treatment, but the cub seemed no worse for wear, despite whimpering like a beaten puppy, so I kicked my second sneaker off. A woman I hadn't noticed standing near the wall picked up the cub, dressed in a kimono in soft shades of topaz. Her hair was red as Kannon's, hanging free to her waist. Finally, a family member that resembled him. She smiled shyly at us, bowing her head and hugging the cub to her stomach.  
  
          "This is Sanaya, younger sister," Kannon introduced us. Being closer, I could see that she was pregnant. I had to smile at her, sharing a 'woman's moment'. She blushed prettily, bowed, then slid open a door and disappeared through it.  
  
          Kannon's brother had already sat down on a cushion in the room, and I saw there were more cushions, probably for us. We sat down at Kannon's urgings, and another woman appeared, dressed in muted greens and short black hair that barely reached to her shoulders. In her hands was a tray and what I guessed correctly was tea. She knelt on a cushion, then poured and handed us all tea. This, I guessed was Satomi, since she didn't look old enough to be Kannon's mother.  
  
          "You call this no formalities?" I asked Kannon quietly.  
  
          "Hai, no dominance rituals. This is just because you are our guests," Kannon explained, smiling. The orgies don't start until you're part of the family, I guess.  
  
          "This is really awkward." I looked to Jason, who was holding his cup in one hand, and using a small fan from the tray in his other hand, trying to fan cool his tea. I had to look away before I sprayed my mouthful of tea on Kannon's brother from laughter.  
  
          "Where's your mother?"  
  
          "Sanaya has gone to fetch her." He nodded reassuringly to me.  
  
          I blew on my tea as Jason tested his and fanned it some more. Satomi seemed amused by his antics.  
  
          The rear door slid open and I looked up to see Sanaya stepping through, followed by an older woman. I stared. She had snowy white hair, dressed in a pale and lavender kimono, long skirts flowing around her feet and behind her. Her hair was so long it reached nearly to her feet, becoming lost among the folds of pale cloth. Kannon's family must buy shampoo in bulk.  
  
          She had to get just a few feet away from me before I could see her face, because of the dimness and her pale coloring seemed to make her features blur. Her face was becoming lined with age, and yet, still lovely. What was it with Asian women?  
  
          She walked towards me with great 'swooshes' of material, and I looked up at her, at her face softly framed in flowing white hair. Soft, warm palms touched either side of my face and her power seem to flutter across my skin like millions of butterfly kisses. Trickles of cool water seeming to flow across my skin, calming, reassuring. Not hot and set to explode like some of the other powerful shape shifters.  
  
          I closed my eyes. My own power rose in answer to hers, and I still felt calm. Almost like when a cool wind dries the sweat on your body on a hot day. My power the sweat, and hers the wind. Then her hands moved away from my face, leaving me with what was almost like a minty aftertaste.  
  
          I opened my eyes to see her kneel and sit down on a cushion beside Seishi. "I am Mother," Kannon translated.  
  
          I nodded and smiled to her. "I am Anita Blake, and this is Jason, a pleasure to meet you."  
  
          Kannon translated and she nodded to Jason, then turned her golden eyes back to me. "My son brings you as guests to the Forest Mist earth."  
  
          I nodded and thought on how appropriate the name was. "Kannon has been very helpful."  
  
          She smiled at her son gently and he scooted forward to speak to her. I sipped the tea as he explained the situation to her, probably.  
  
          "She looks pretty good for a mom," Jason whispered to me. I closed my eyes as if in pain. Jason needed to get his libido under control.  
  
          "Your people are prisoners of the Saru." Mother looked disturbed. "We must get your people back quickly. The Saru are barbarians. They will hurt your people."  
  
          My pulse sped up. "Can you help me find the Saru?"  
  
          "You are welcome to stay at the Forest Mist earth until you are safe," she said. "I will call upon my brethren to help you."  
  
          I wasn't sure what else to do, and in a surge of emotions, I bowed and thanked her. Jason immediately copied me, following my lead like a well-trained lackey.  
  
          "Until I can gather kitsune to accompany you, I ask that you eat and rest," she suggested. "My children will help you."  
  
          I tried to compose myself and thanked her again. I don't know what was coming over me. I felt like I wanted to cry. I was probably tired.  
  
          "May I use a phone?" I asked, glad to hear my voice was steady.  
  
          "I'll show you where it is," Kannon promised.  
  
          "Do you have any questions for me?" Mother asked.  
  
          I blinked and tried to think of some. "What are the chances of getting my people back intact?"  
  
          Mother considered. "The Saru do not conduct such large kidnappings on impulse. They are holding your people for someone. They have most likely not been harmed beyond repair."  
  
          I felt a weight lift off my chest. "Who else besides Sanesuke could they be working for?"  
  
          "It would have to be someone as powerful as the Vampire Master," Mother said, thinking. "And I cannot think of who it might be."  
  
          Neither could I. We were in deep shit. No matter how many times that thought has crossed my mind before, it never loses its full effect.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16.  
  
          I telephoned Edward's answering service, leaving the phone number, and Kannon tried to distract me from my troubles by telling me about his people. Jason was treated to lunch by the sisters, and he didn't seem to mind at all. In the mess, our luggage was brought in.  
  
          Mother was the matriarch of this group of Kitsune. Forest kitsune, they called themselves. Apparently there were different types. Forest kitsune apparently had power over wood, and Kannon explained that he was the one that made the wooden counter and cabinet explode to distract Schuldig from me. That was a handy little ability.  
  
          Apparently, the females ruled kitsune society. An entire 'earth', or fox den, revolved around the dominant female. Only the dominant female bred. The child Sanaya was carrying would be human. But one quirk was that the child would be marked by golden eyes, beauty, and/or some extra ability. If your child turned out to have golden eyes, you could bet there was an unknown kitsune in your lineage. Interesting.  
  
          Seishi was a dominant male, but his main duty was to entice a dominant female to join their earth and keep it alive when Mother passed on. Dominant males were gifted with great beauty to help carry out their duty. So, generally they were just eye candy and breeding material. What a life.  
  
          A dominant female that birthed another dominant female would drive her from the earth when she was old enough to seek a mate. These young, wandering, dominant females had apparently caused great mischief in history, according to legends. Extra dominant males were driven out as well, to meet up with females and start new earths. Sounded like some special on the Discovery channel.  
  
          In the other shape shifter societies, might made right. You take out their leader, and the others beat the shit out of each other till the next king badass is declared.  
  
          Kannon also told me he and his older brother were named after some guardian angels according to Buddhist belief. Souls that had attained heaven, but decided to stay behind to help the rest of the people get to heaven. How noble.  
  
          The phone rang then and Kannon had me answer, saying how they rarely got calls, and it was probably Edward. It was.  
  
          "We're in a temple in the mountains."  
  
          "Which direction from town?"  
  
          "South of Tokyo."  
  
          "Don't tell me anymore. I'll find you. You're with shape shifters, right?"  
  
          "Yep."  
  
          "Good, they'll smell trouble coming. Sit tight." 

          Oh darn. There goes my plans for Disneyland.  
  
          "How are you getting here?"  
  
          "Don't worry about it."  
  
          "Are you bringing me a new toy?" I asked, grinning. Edward usually gave me all sorts of neat new toys whenever we met. Everything from tiny guns to my sawed off shotgun.  
  
          He chuckled. "Maaay-be."  
  
          "Edward, how do you know Crawford?"  
  
          The line went silent for a few minutes. "Knew him once."  
  
          "You worked with him before? Or you worked against him?"  
  
          "Something like that."  
  
          "Which one?"  
  
          "Both."  
  
          "So, are you coming to kill him? Or reminisce?"  
  
          "Maybe both."  
  
          "Am I going to owe you another favor for getting him killed?" I'd killed one of Edward's buddies before. It was a matter of him or me. Harley hadn't been all there. Edward had offered me the option of him killing me in return or owing him a favor. I'd taken the favor.  
  
          "No."  
  
          "Good."  
  
          "Stay alive, Anita. I'll see you in the morning."  
  
          I got dailtone. No goodbyes. Come to think of it, Edward and Sanesuke, along with Detective Sergeant Storr, all had that annoying way to end a phone call. Storr was the head of the Office of the Regional Preternatural Investigations Team for the St. Louis area. I worked for that group often. We called it RPIT, pronounced "rip-it". He'd saved my ass after many a hard-to-explain kill. He was a good cop in a sea of bad cops. And he never said goodbye. Maybe he was afraid of it. Being the people we are, working the jobs we do, one goodbye could very well be the last goodbye. But if you didn't say it, you wouldn't jinx it. Or maybe he was just terse. To tell the truth, I can't imagine Edward being so sentimental, but you never know. You just never know.  
  
          I didn't like the idea of just sitting there, waiting for Edward to come, and not knowing what was happening to Cherry, Zane, Nathaniel, Asher, and the assassins. I just prayed the Saru didn't play vampire games. They might be able to heal physically, but mentally...  
  
          It was still daylight, so Asher couldn't help the others. Come nightfall, he might be able to do something. He was a master vampire, after all.  
  
          "Anita, you should eat and rest," Kannon advised me. I grudgingly agreed as my stomach rumbled. I had a modest meal of soup, which I managed to eat easily with a spoon, and rice with vegetables, which I cheated and used the spoon on.  
  
          The sisters had taught Jason how to use chopsticks and he worked diligently at mastering them, taunting me by snagging food off my plate with them from time to time.  
  
          Afterwards, we were shown to a room with futons. I'd never slept on a futon before. The little cylinder pillows were uncomfortable to me, and thankfully, they offered us a couple flat pillows that we were used to.  
  
          I laid there and tried to sleep, but worry kept me awake. Jason had a futon on the other side of the room, and lay silently. I doubted he was sleeping either.  
  
          "Anita?"  
  
          Bingo. "What is it, Jason?"  
  
          "Are the others going to be okay?"  
  
          I sighed and rolled over. "I hope so, Jason."  
  
          "What if they aren't?"  
  
          I stared at the wooden wall as I thought of them, tortured and beaten. "If they aren't, I'll kill whoever did it to them."  
  
          Jason was silent then, apparently satisfied. Shape shifters understood killing. Sometimes it seemed like the only thing they understood. A dominant usually had to kill to make his claim as a dominant and hold it.  
  
          That thought took me to Aya. I wondered what he was doing right now. Glaring at someone, I bet. I came to realize he could be dominant, but a bad one. He was too self-centered. Either he'd fall under a good one, or he'd walk alone. Would he offer himself to protect his people? Would he kill for them? These thoughts followed me until I couldn't think any longer.  
  


  
          I was walking through a mist-filled graveyard. I wore a long white gown that seemed to have come from the Victorian era. It trailed on the ground after me.  
  
          "Anita."  
  
          I turned at the whispered call and saw Jean Claude sitting on a headstone, beautiful as ever. He sat in quiet repose, one hand down on the headstone, dressed in his usual black, filigreed with gold and white stitching. His black hair flowed down to his shoulders, eyes looking black in the moonlight.  
  
          "What do you want, Jean Claude?" I asked crossly. Every time we meet he puts me in these funky clothes, ribs crushed by these damned corsets and my boobs practically spilling out. He does it on purpose because he knows I can't kill him. I know he does.  
  
          "You are worried, _ma petit_," he said quietly. "I can feel it." He pressed one hand to his chest. "I feel it in my heart."  
  
          "Don't call me that," I snapped irritably.  
  
          "As you wish." He bowed his head. "I want to help you, Anita. But you must tell me what is wrong."  
  
          "It's nothing you can help me with, Jean Claude."  
  
          "Shall I call the Master of Tokyo?"  
  
          "No, you shall not."  
  
          "You never allow me to help you, Anita," he said sadly. "You are the Executioner, and vampires tremble as you pass, but you cannot do everything on your own."  
  
          "I've let you help me before, don't give me that shit."  
  
          "_Oui_." He nodded. "Is it such a hard thing?"  
  
          "I don't need your help right now, Jean Claude. I'm supposed to be resting. Get out of my dream."  
  
          "_Oui_. But you will tell me if you do?"  
  
          I sighed. "I'll tell you."  
  
          "_Merci_, Anita."  
  
          "Now get lost."  
  
          "Have you really turned so bitter towards me, Anita?"  
  
          I looked at him, at his beauty, and I still wanted to undress him, to feel his skin under my hands and run my fingers through his hair. It was just plain old lust. Any woman would feel the same in my position.  
  
          "I just need time away from you two."  
  
          "I have waited for you, Anita. Waited, and I will continue to do so." Damn that French accent!  
  
          "Well, don't." I turned away from him. "I can't base my relationship to you off of sex."  
  
          "But it's a good relationship."  
  
          I could just imagine the humor in his eyes, the smile playing on his lips. I had to smile slightly, where he couldn't see it.  
  
          "I can't hang around you or Richard without wanting sex, and I need to think about other things right now. I can't date you both indefinitely."  
  
          "I promised I would not kill Monsieur Zeeman if you married him."  
  
          I turned to look at him. "And would you really keep that promise? Would you really stay out of our lives?"  
  
          He rose off the headstone, all liquid grace, like shifting shadows. "If that is what you want, Anita."  
  
          He stepped towards me and I watched him come like the rabbit does the mac truck. I reached out and touched his hair as it hung over his shoulder, unable to help myself, and he curled his fingers around mine. He pressed his cheek to the back my hand.  
  
          "But I don't know if that's what I want." I lowered my eyes.  
  
          "He is as much a monster as I am," Jean Claude said, stroking his cheek across my hand again. I jerked my hand free and stepped back from him.  
  
          "I can't think about this right now, Jean Claude. I'm busy. I have other engagements. I need you to leave now."  
  
          "As you wish, Anita." He leaned forward and kissed my hair. "I will be...here."  
  
          I nodded and stepped further away from him, where he couldn't touch me. "Goodbye, Jean Claude."  
  
          "Until I see you again, _ma petit_."  
  
          The dream was over before I could snap at him for calling me that again.  
  


  
          I awoke to voices, low and murmured. I lifted my head, blinking, and realized there was a warmth by my side. Jason had somehow migrated from his futon, across the room, and to the side of my futon. He was wrapped in his blanket like a blonde burrito and it was his shoulder that was touching my arm. I shifted away from him so as not to disturb him, and sat up. There were voices from out in the main room. Voices other than the voices of the Forest Mist family. The other kitsune were here.  
  
          I got to my feet and combed my hair into order with my fingers before sliding the door open. I followed the voices down the hall to the main room. I slid that door open and several pairs of eyes lifted to look at me.  
  
          Mother, Seishi, Kannon, and three other kitsune were sitting there. One white-haired male, a bald male, and a brunette female. All had golden eyes. The other thing was that stood out was that Mother had fox ears. Little, fuzzy fox ears peeked out through her hair. I remembered that dominants could shift only parts of their bodies if they wished. I guess Mother was showing off.  
  
          "Are you well rested, Anita-san?" Mother asked.  
  
          "Yes." I nodded.  
  
          "These are my brethren." She indicated the assembled werefoxes as I sat down a cushion near them.  
  
          "Kuroda-san." The white-haired male.  
  
          "Iga-san." The bald one.  
  
          "Kaji-san." The brunette.  
  
          I nodded and sorta bowed to them and they returned in kind, though with much better bows.  
  
          "They will lead you to the Saru and help you rescue your friends," Kannon translated for Mother.  
  
          "And I am coming too," Kannon added for himself.  
  
          "Thank you." I bowed again.  
  
          "Iga-san is a monk." Mother indicated the bald kitsune, who bowed again. "He will be of great assistance to you when dealing with the Monkey King."  
  
          I bowed back to him, and he gave me the tiniest knowing smile.  
  
          "Now we must dress." Kannon smiled and got to his feet.  
  
          "Dress?"  
  
          "We are going to have to play our part, ne?"  
  
          I didn't like the sound of that. Shape shifters seem to have this love of playing dress up. Or...more properly described, undress up. If it were anything like American ideas of dressing the part, I'd end up in revealing leather.  
  
          Sanaya and Satomi helped Kaji and I dress. Kaji was willowy, all pale slenderness. She dressed in blues and reds, baggy blue pants under a red vest thing that closed over her chest and hung down around her legs to her knees. It left her arms bare, and a blue sash wrapped her waist. A white strip of cloth encircled her forehead and the ends trailed down to her shoulders.  
  
          I got red and black. I seem to end up in those colors often. I got a sleeveless kimono top in black with gold, white and red stitching. A red sash wrapped my waist. Red cloth spilled slightly from under the hems of the neck and the armholes of the kimono top. It left my arms bare. My knives were in plain view on my forearms. The rigging of my holsters was hidden under the kimono top, but I could easily reach my guns through the armholes just above the sash if I did a crossdraw. From the sash down, the black material hung down between my legs in front and back to just past my knees. My legs ended up bare, all the way up to the tops of the thighs.  
  
          The sisters tied up my hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and then flipping it up to stand up at the back my head and securing it with what looked like gold chopsticks that had jade beads dangling off the top end. The sisters also showed me they were sharp and could be used for stabbing or throwing. I felt very James Bond, or maybe some kind of ninja movie.  
  
          They painted my face with pale make up, making me look ghost white, and then applied light eye shadow and blood red lipstick. When I saw myself in the mirror, I actually had to reach out toward my reflection to believe it was me. That was a geisha looking back at me. But a very stern one in the red and black. My bared arms and legs made me look sultry as well. I looked beautiful but dangerous...like Malibu Rambo. I tried to figure out how to hide the machete, but we just decided to hang it off my hip like a small sword and push it around back to hang near my butt. Why hide it? I was going for intimidating, not sneaky.  
  
          Even Kaji looked surprised and approving. I was just pleased I wasn't near naked. The last time I'd dressed up for a shape shifter party, I'd been wearing nothing but black leather straps. Shudder. I could work with this. They put me into black boot things that came just over halfway up my calves, with thick rubber soles. They were tight and formfitting, but seemed to be made of a thick, almost nylon, cloth, not leather. The big toe was split away from the rest of the toes. I liked the feel of them, even if I looked like I had frog feet. I could not wear those sandal things Kaji was and not fear for tripping and falling.  
  
          Jason had been put into dark yellow, baggy pants and a bright blue...thing that had a high collar to curve around his neck and close in the front. It looked like a shirt without sleeves, but then it hung down around his legs. Jason was busy strutting and showing himself off. His eyes widened to see me.  
  
          "You look like death."  
  
          I smiled. "Perfect."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17.  
  
          It was dark outside when we stepped out. Kuroda took Iga and Kagi in his vehicle. Kannon drove Jason and I along the night road.  
  
          "Jean Claude would pull a fang to see you in this outfit." Jason leaned forward to grin at me. I turned and gave him a dead stare.  
  
          "You so much as mention it to him..." I left the threat open to leave me a variety of punishments to pick from. Jason just smiled and leaned back in his seat.  
  
          "So where are we going?" I looked to Kannon. Kannon pointed out the windshield at what seemed an actual wall of fog moving across the road ahead of us. I stared. I could see it move like it was a living thing dragging itself across the road.  
  
          Jason was leaning over my shoulder. "What kinda fog is that?!"  
  
          "The Monkey King's cloud." Kannon didn't take his eyes from the fog as we got closer and closer to it.  
  
          "He has a cloud?" I'm not intimidated, really I'm not. Okay, so the guy's got his own cloud. We've got a Nissan and some eye-catching outfits.  
  
          "The Saru are responsible for the fog. The kings seem to produce the fog somehow. The Monkey King can move under cover of the fog and thus, it's his cloud."  
  
          "Why did you call it a cloud if it's fog?" Jason asked, resting his elbows on the back of our seats and his chin on his arm. I felt a little better. He didn't have his own cloud. He can just manipulate a force of nature like fog to bend to his will, that's all. But he didn't have a cloud.  
  
          "Because legend has it the Monkey King rides a cloud."  
  
          "He's a legend too?" I asked. Christ, write a book and call yourself Oprah.  
  
          "The legendary Monkey King is known for his trickery and pranks, but also for being a master of martial arts, with a magical bo staff and he rides a cloud. All Monkey Kings answer to the same name to keep the appearance that the Monkey King is only one entity and can appear anywhere he wants to. They act as if they are all one being in different bodies. The same for the Monkey Kings in China and Korea. They all answer to the name in use for that country."  
  
          I wonder how they got along at their little annual Monkey King picnics.  
  
          "So what's his name here?" I asked, watching the fog start to loom.  
  
          "Goku. Son Goku."  
  
          "Is he reasonable?"  
  
          Kannon turned to blink at me as if amazed I could be so dumb, and Jason as well. Hey, the only stupid question is the one you didn't ask.  
  
          "Look at what they did to your hotel room," Kannon said quietly.  
  
          "So we go in guns a'blazing."  
  
          "Not if you want your people back alive."  
  
          We were swallowed by the fog for a few moments. Every window was whitened out. Then we were back into the night air. I turned to look behind us and watched Kuroda's car come through the fog after us.  
  
          "Then what's the best approach?"  
  
          "You can offer something he wants more than your people."  
  
          "Like what?"  
  
          Kannon frowned. "The Monkey King is a prankster and childish sometimes. What would you give a child in exchange for a toy he has?"  
  
          He had me stumped there. Food? "What has worked before?"  
  
          "Sometimes it's been food, other times it's toys or magic. You never know what he could want."  
  
          I bit my lip. "I have nothing to give him." Ba-rump-bum-bum-bum.  
  
          "Then we'll have to improvise." Kannon said seriously.  
  
          We followed the road for at least an hour, passing through the tunnels of fog as the terrain grew rockier, and with less trees. The stars were really clear out there, away from the city lights. I could actually see the Milky Way. Kannon amused us by telling us the legend of the Monkey King.  
  
          Basically, Goku was born from a rock that was on the Earth from the beginning of creation, getting its power from absorbing the solar and lunar energy of the sun and moon. When he was born, he was huge and didn't know what the hell was going on, creating mass destruction wherever he went. He grew up on an island of monkeys and declared himself their king. The Jade Emperor of the Celestial Palace sent his number one guard to take care of him. Well...after a massive battle, the guard cut off his tail, and Goku returned to being a little monkey. He wandered around aimlessly, till the Goddess of Mercy saw him and took pity on him, so she took him to this mountain and asked this sorcerer to take him in as a pupil.  
  
          Well, he went back to his island and heard from one of the monkeys about a pole at the bottom of the ocean that supported the Dragon King's kingdom. Soooo, he went down there and 'borrowed' the pole. Without the pole, the Dragon King's kingdom went haywire and the Earth was wracked by floods and other weird natural disasters. So then, the Jade Emperor was informed of this and he was really upset, so he sent a bunch of people down to capture Goku. But Goku ended up kicking their asses, so the Emperor changed his mind and offered him a position in the Celestial Kingdom. As the Royal Celestial Head of Equestrian or something...which meant basically that he looked after the horses in the kingdom.  
  
          After he realized he's been duped, he got pissed, so he just went around the kingdom to 'play'. During that time, there was a festival going on, and the most important item was the immortality peach that took thousands of years to grow and stuff. Well...Goku got hungry, so he wiped out the damn peach tree, and that pissed off some important people. The Jade Emperor said that was the last straw, and sent all the people in the kingdom after Goku. I could sure relate with him there.  
  
          He beat all of their asses, but got trapped in a giant bronze pot being used to make a tablet of immortality. Gods sure have this immortality hang up, don't they? Anyway, fire was constantly applied to the pot, and Goku stayed in there and got scorched for many days. Then I guess he got hungry again, cause he just swallowed the damn tablet, gained extra super strength, and broke out of the pot. His eyes were burnt so they turned the color of fire, and the holy fire that was used also allowed him to see through the disguises of demons. Then he commenced wrecking havoc on the Celestial Kingdom and it seemed that nobody could stop him...till Buddha arrived.  
  
          And as it turned out, Buddha kicks ass with a smile. Goku jumped into the palm of Buddha's hand...literally, and declared himself king of the world, sans Titanic, in defiance. Buddha said that he'd let Goku do whatever, if he could prove himself worthy. The only way to prove himself worthy was by jumping out of Buddha's hand in one leap. Goku got cocky said 'sure whatever', and...he even...peed on one of Buddha's fingers. Then he made the leap...and found himself facing that finger.  
  
          So Buddha slammed him back down to earth and dropped a mountain on him, complete with a seal. Then there was this monk, who in his past life was a disciple of Buddha. At one of his lectures, he fell asleep. Buddha punished him by stripping him of his title, position, and reincarnating him as a monk till he repented for his sin. And you know, all this time, I thought that Buddha was a peaceful, forgiving god, really. The monk, Tripitaka, was sent west to get the book of prayers. All the demons in the area...in China actually, wanted to capture him and eat his flesh because he's the reincarnation of a holy disciple and his flesh would give them...immortality or extra power and all that good shit. So all through the trip the demons are getting their chopsticks ready.  
  
          Tripitaka went on this journey to get a sutra from Tibet for some king. He happened to pass by a particular mountain, and a particular Monkey King trapped beneath yelled out for help. Tripitaka decided that their meeting was fated and he prayed for Goku, and his prayer broke the seal on the mountain. So Goku bowed down and accepted Tripitaka as his master.  
  
          After that, Goku started acting like a monkey jackass...so Tripitaka used a bronze band that the Goddess of Mercy gave him. Every time Tripitaka prayed, the headband tightened and crushed his skull, or something like that. They met three more demons, or whatever, that had been kicked from high titles and/or positions that also joined them, and in the end, they reached the giant building in Tibet where all the books where and got back their titles/positions.  
  
          It was after hearing all of this that I learned: one, Goku was a megalomaniac; two, never piss on Buddha or fall asleep during his lectures; three, maybe the Goddess of Mercy isn't so damn merciful and can crush your skull with a headband; and four, this was not going to be easy.  
  
          So, how do you intrigue a megalomaniac? Maybe the monk had an idea. Maybe this is why the monk had been included in this group.  
  
          Then I saw it, the orange glow ahead, creating a hazy spot against the night sky, just over the mountain ridges.  
  
          "Is that it?" I asked aloud.  
  
          Kannon nodded. "That would be them."  
  
          Houston, we've got monkeys. And I still didn't have a plan.  
  
          "Anita." Jason leaned forward and grabbed the headrest of my seat. I turned to look at him, and his wide, blue eyes. He was waiting for me to give them the plan. He could no doubt smell the fact I wasn't comfortable. He was asking for reassurance with his gaze. And I didn't have it.  
  
          I reached up and patted his hand; it was all I had. He seemed heartened by the simple touch though.  
  
          "I'm not going to let any of you down, Jason," I said quietly.  
  
          "I know." He smiled at me, smiled at me with all the trust of a child hearing his mother tell him everything was going to be all right. But it's not all right. Mommy can die and the things that go 'chomp' in the night can get you. But still, back then, you trusted what mommy said. Because mommy said it.  
  
          Jason's eyes flickered forward and I turned to look, spotting the two figures on the road.  
  
          "Kannon, do you see them?" I asked.  
  
          "Hai..." Kannon nodded, driving towards them.  
  
          "They're guards, aren't they?"  
  
          "Hai."  
  
          I kept my eyes on the non-moving figures until the car's headlights illuminated them. They were both men, not very tall, but with barrel bodies, the kind that push you around in a biker bar. Each carried a spear that they held upright, butts resting against the dirt road. They wore armor, most likely for show. Chest plates, arm plates, shin plates, even helmets. They either did this every night, or this was for my benefit. Most likely for my benefit. Didn't I feel special.  
  
          Kannon stopped the car about a car length from the guards, blinding them with the headlights until he killed the engine. The other car pulled to a stop behind us, and I opened the car door, getting out. Kannon and Jason followed suit. I heard the doors of the other car slamming shut as they also climbed out. The guards watched us, most likely just regaining their night vision, but didn't move towards or away from us.  
  
          I was about to step forward when Iga brushed up beside me. He was wearing dull gray and white robes, with beads about his neck. He put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a kind smile. He lifted his hand from my shoulder and gave me a hand motion for me to follow him. Then he spoke quietly to Kannon.  
  
          "He says the others should wait here," Kannon translated. "Just you, him, and me." Three was a lucky number right? Charlie's Angels, the Mod Squad...the Three Stooges.  
  
          "Anita?" Jason asked again as Kaji and Kuroda stepped up to join him.  
  
          "Wait here for me," I told him, and followed after Iga, Kannon trailing behind us.  
  
          Iga walked calmly up to the guards, and spoke calmly and clearly to them. As calm as Buddha. Hopefully, he also kicked ass with a smile.  
  
          "I am Mizuki Iga. I have brought Anita Blake to meet the Monkey King," Kannon whispered the translation to me.  
  
          "What is her business?" one of the guards asked.  
  
          "She suspects the Monkey King has something that belongs to her."  
  
          The guards looked to me, and waited in silence.  
  
          "Verify his claim," Kannon whispered to me.  
  
          "I don't speak Japanese," I whispered back.  
  
          "Tell them in English."  
  
          "I am Anita Blake," I said finally, feeling rather silly. I could be insulting them and they'd most likely not know it, and that sort of took something away from the ritual. At any rate, I spoke loudly and clearly, letting my tone convey the message. "I have come for what is mine."  
  
          This seemed to be accepted, and they turned, walking down the road. Iga spoke to Kannon, and he turned to signal the others to follow.  
  
          "How was that?" I asked as we started to walk after the guards.  
  
          "Perfect."  
  
          The guards led us to a cul de sac, a small valley cut into the cliffs that stretched way back. It was lit by a several bonfires near the walls. The whole place was aglow in orange light. There was a group of people before me I guessed were weremonkeys. All in different stages of undress. In the center of this group was a cage, a strong-looking one, and there was a large tawny leopard in it. The cage wasn't very high or wide, forcing the leopard to crouch down, restricting its movement. I knew how it felt.  
  
          The people crowded around it had spears, and the leopard was trying to watch all directions at once, screaming in pain and rage when a spear was stabbed through the bars and into its body. It was already bleeding heavily, its sides streaked with blood, as well as marking the tips of several spears. It was one of mine. And most likely Cherry or Zane. My hand slid for the gun.  
  
          Iga's hand came down on my arm. I looked to him, trembling in anger, looking back into his calm golden eyes. He shook his head and I snarled at him.  
  
          "I'm not going to let them continue this."  
  
          "Anita, it wouldn't be wise-" Kannon started, but I'd already pulled the gun, choosing the weremonkey nearest me as my target as I walked towards them. Of course it wasn't wise. It was natural, primal, the laws of the jungle as well as the sandbox. Touch my swing and I'll kick your shins. Touch my leopard and I'll shoot you.  
  
          "Back the fuck off!" I yelled at them. All of them paused, looking at me. The leopard turned its pale eyes on me, its sides heaving from exhaustion.  
  
          I kept walking towards them, and Jason was suddenly beside me, backing my play. An inhuman growl trickled out of his throat. I could hear the others behind me. The shape shifters watched me approach, studying me, but none moved away. I was in Japan, did the 'don't attack unless attacked' rule apply? I guess we'd find out, 'cause I wasn't going to calmly stand by and wait for the Monkey King with his flunky monkeys spearing Zane repeatedly.  
  
          "Jason, are they all shape shifters?" I asked quietly.  
  
          "Yes. All of them. And that's Zane."  
  
          I looked at the leopard, its tongue showing through the parted jowls, panting.  
  
          "Good."  
  
          I shot the weremonkey nearest me, the bullet striking him in the gut, knocking him down on his back, and the others scattered like a dropped bag of marbles. But they hadn't moved far enough away. Not enough for me. I pointed at the next nearest monkey as I kept walking forward, Jason sticking to my side.  
  
          "Back!" I yelled, feeling the desire for a whip, and a chair, and a three-ring circus. The monkeys did move back this time, watching my gun, and the injured one on the ground that was trying to sit back up. I walked straight up to him and put my foot on his chest, slamming him back down on the ground, the Browning pointing at the space between his eyes. He stared back up at me, pain in his eyes as he panted heavily to deal with the pain as his body healed itself. Able to heal or not, a gut shot hurts like hell. And able to heal or not, with his brains splattered in the dirt, there was no recovering.  
  
          "Get me the key!" I yelled at the other monkeys, never moving the gun from its target and I heard Kannon yell the translation after me.  
  
          The monkey under my foot coughed and mumbled something.  
  
          "He says the Monkey King has the key," Kannon told me, now at the side of me opposite Jason. Jason was next to the cage, snarling at the monkeys, keeping them away from Zane. Zane had lowered his body to the bottom of the cage, folding his legs under himself and letting them rest finally.  
  
          I wasn't going to seek out the key and leave Zane alone with the monkeys.  
  
          "Jason, can you open that cage?" I asked, the monkey under my foot breathing easier, but not moving, staring back up at the barrel of my gun.  
  
          "It's too strong for me."  
  
          "But not for _us_," Kannon spoke up. "If we all try..."  
  
          "Then do it." I could feel my arms starting to waver from just pointing and holding for so long.  
  
          Kannon spoke to the other werefoxes, and they joined Jason next to the cage, ready to perform a feat of strength. Maybe I had the three-ring circus after all.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18.  
  
          There comes a time in every woman's life where she must pause and ask herself 'Is this strange?' If strange was wearing a kimono while pointing a gun at a weremonkey you've just shot while werefoxes tried to bend steel bars with their bare hands to free a wereleopard is strange, then yes, this would be one of those times.  
  
          That settled, back to business. The monkeys were agitated, hovering just out of reach as the werefoxes and one werewolf grabbed the bars at one end of the cage, and set to work pulling. Shape shifters are like Superman when it comes to strength. Well, just about. They can bench press a small car, if that counts.  
  
          I switched my gaze from the monkey beneath my foot to the others as I heard the whine of metal protesting the pressure being exerted on it. He was mumbling things to me, but thankfully I didn't understand any of it. I doubted it was compliments on my outfit. I pressed my foot harder against his chest, but didn't lean any closer. Doing so would just be asking for him to grab my gun. He quieted and I risked adjusting my grip on the Browning. It's a big gun, and does get heavy after a while.  
  
          The metal screeched and screamed to my right, but I didn't move my gaze. That was a serious mistake some people made. And often, it was their last.  
  
          "Anita, we got it," Jason's voice called. "Zane's out."  
  
          I eased off the monkey quickly, backing up and away from him, keeping the Browning pointed at him. He pushed up on his hands to sit up, watching me. I spared a glance to look at Zane, seeing him standing on unsteady legs, licking his lips.  
  
          "You okay, Zane?" I asked. I got a rumble in response.  
  
          "Good. Where's the others?"  
  
          Kannon translated, and the monkeys looked back behind them.  
  
          "They're leading the way. And they better move nice and slow," I said. Kannon translated, and the monkeys started to turn and walk further back down the valley. The one I'd shot got back to his feet and joined the others, trying to hide amongst them, probably hoping I didn't shoot him a second time.  
  
          A couple took their time backing up, and Zane jumped forward, fangs bared as he screamed at them, and they quickly joined the rest. What's a little animosity between torturer and victim? I relaxed my hold on the gun as I walked forward, holding it in my right hand only, clenching and unclenching my hands before running a hand over the smooth fur of Zane's head. He leaned into the touch, and a brief throaty purr started up.  
  
          Iga spoke quietly and I glanced to Kannon as he translated to murmurs of what sounded like agreement from the others.  
  
          "He acknowledges you're a dominant, Anita. And apparently, so has this crowd."  
  
          "Good. As soon as all of them acknowledge it, we can all get along." My voice was calm; inside I was calm. Inside I was also pissed. Calm and pissed is fine. I will be calmly pissed. I will kick ass with a smile. This must be what enlightenment is like.  
  
          The monkeys soon mingled with the next group. This one turned out to be around the blonde assassin. About five females and two males composed the worshipping group. I stopped where I was, freezing in place. I heard a small intake of breath behind me from one of the werefoxes.  
  
          It was one of those things you wanted to look away from. Because common decency tells you to. But I couldn't look away from it this time. Everyone was staring at me. Waiting to see what I would do.  
  
          "Jason," I breathed. "Get her off of him."  
  
          Youji was wrapped in the embraces of all the monkeys, all having at least half of their bodies showing through their rumpled kimonos or whatever you call man's clothing. A female was rapidly moving on top of him, her kimono folding down about her waist, her breasts jiggling with her movements. Youji was moaning what seemed to be weak protests, and his voice sounded exhausted. Monkey and assassin porn was not something I had come to Japan to see.  
  
          Jason moved forward quickly and the females hissed at him, before Zane bound into the orgy, bringing shrieks from female throats and snarls from the couple males ones as he clawed at the ones that took too long to escape. Jason grabbed the female on top of Youji just as Zane had joined him, and he yanked her off the naked assassin by the upper arms, shoving her aside. She stumbled and fell to the sandy dirt, turning a glare on Jason.  
  
          Jason stood over the blonde assassin, who was trying to curl up on the fancy carpet spread out that the orgy had been sitting on. I pointed the Browning at the woman who had been on Youji, and she refocused her gaze on me. Jason pulled off the yellow vest thing he wore and knelt down next to Youji, covering him with it, and trying to pull him up to get it onto him.  
  
          "Back off," I snarled at the female as she got to her feet, breasts flopping about, and I wondered if she felt any embarrassment at all. Probably not.  
  
          "Kannon, tell them to put their clothes on."  
  
          Kannon obeyed, and a few of the females pulled their kimonos up. The others just glared at me, making no attempts at modesty.  
  
          Jason managed to get Youji up, and his arms into the sleeve holes of the vest thing, now buttoning up the front so the man wasn't exposed. Youji didn't seem to want to look at anyone, just holding onto Jason's shoulders and hiding his face behind a curtain of wavy, blonde hair. He was trembling, fingers curling into the flesh under his hands as his head leaned forward to hover over Jason's left shoulder, as if Jason were acting as some sort of anchor, a focus for him to pull himself back together.  
  
          Damn them. This was just what I was afraid of.  
  
          "Jason, check him for scratches and bites."  
  
          Most lycanthropes are only contagious in animal form, but hey, foxes bred here, so maybe the other rules were different too. For Youji to turn into a monkey on the nights of the full moon because I couldn't protect him...  
  
          "They can't spread it in human form," Kannon reassured me.  
  
          "And he's got human teeth marks on his neck and shoulders," Jason told me, wrapping an arm around Youji's waist to help him stay standing up.  
  
          One less thing off my mind. But someone was going to pay for this. And I don't take plastic.  
  
          "Take us to the others!" I snapped at the crowd. Kannon echoed me, but the crowd didn't move. All right, they wanted to play it tough, I was in the mood to play. I sighted in on the female that been on Youji and shot her in the left shoulder. She screamed, flailing backwards and would have fallen if the monkeys behind her hadn't caught her. One male that was holding her shoulders leaned forward to bury his face in the wound, and she screamed at him, trying to shove him away. He tried to hang on, and she thrashed against him, trying to turn about to shove at his chest with her hands. She finally shoved her fingers into his eyes and he screamed, backing away from her in a rush, stumbling into the monkeys behind him and falling on his butt, holding his face. The female looked back to me and licked the fluids off her fingers, making it painfully clear she'd punctured his eyeballs.  
  
          The wound in her shoulder was already healing as she glared back at me through her eyelashes, her hair falling forward about her face in wisps. Small, pink tongue lapping across her fingers like licking up honey.  
  
          "The others!" I repeated before I got sick. Now the crowd began to move, slowly, trickling away till the crowd thinned, the female I'd shot kept staring at me as she backed off with the rest of them. Zane paced in front of me, mostly healed up now, and one pissed kitty.  
  
          We followed the crowd until we came upon the next hurdle. It turned out to be Cherry. Several monkeys were still blocking my full view of her. I knew it wasn't due to them not knowing what I wanted them to do. I still had my gun pointed at them. They were just testing me every inch of the way.  
  
          I was low on patience. "Zane."  
  
          Zane didn't need to ask. He screamed, and a few more backed off. Zane scooted forward, making a warning swipe with a paw, and yet more backed off. I could hear the muffled sounds of Cherry crying, and lost all patience.  
  
          I sighted in on a male blocking my view and gut shot him, before turning to shoot a female in front of me in the chest. Both dropped, a wail breaking from one, and Zane screamed again. Kaji was suddenly to my left, having grabbed a dropped spear from back when we had saved Zane, and stalking forward with the spear, stabbing at those that were too close. Kuroda joined her, swinging a slender chain weighted at one end, swinging it at heads threateningly.  
  
          A whoop went up then and I immediately knew I wanted more bullets.  
            
          The monkeys in the front of the group surged forward, and I shot the one nearest me, a half-clothed male, hitting him in the chest and knocking him off his feet, tripping a few of the others moving forward behind him. Kaji speared a female coming after her between the breasts, and the weight of Kuroda's chain began to impact on flesh.  
  
          Strong fingers suddenly closed on my left arm, hard enough to make the bones grind together, making my teeth clench. I shoved the barrel of the Browning against the chest of the man who'd grabbed me, and pulled the trigger. I felt splatters on my skin like drizzling rain as the man fell backwards, landing hard on his side in the dirt, curling up.  
  
          Zane screamed, tearing at the face of a female as she screamed back, high pitched and angry. He reared up on his hind legs, like a kitten batting at a dangling toy as his claws carved deep, crimson furrows across the face and upper chest of the female. One of her hands grabbed for his throat as her other slammed into the side of his head repeatedly.  
  
          Jason was snarling at a short, stout male, hands apart and his fingers curled as if they were the deadly armed, werewolf paws already. He was acting as a shield for Youji, who was behind him, backing away from the fight. Youji was unarmed, barely clothed, and I hardly blamed him. Jason was just a sweet guy like that, when he wasn't trying to get into your pants or vice versa.  
  
          Kannon was on the ground, wrestling with another male in the dirt, rolling over and over as other monkeys about them kicked at the rolling duo, striking the monkey as much as they were hitting Kannon.  
  
          I felt the rushing of air and looked up in time to see a blur of motion headed my way. All air was knocked from my lungs as I was suddenly hit from the side in a flying tackle, landing on my left side with my left arm pinned under me, my attacker kneeling over me. I rolled somewhat onto my back and had a split second to recognize the face of the female I'd shot. The one who had gouged out the eyes of the male. Her small teeth were bared in a snarl, her delicate face twisted into a mask of hate as her fingers closed about my throat. 

          I choked, feeling her thumbs press down on my windpipe, and shoved the barrel of the Browning under her chin, knowing she could very well puncture my windpipe any given moment with those slender, yet hard and claw-like fingers. No time to wrestle with her. I pulled the trigger, and the back of her head burst open like a ripe, rotten fruit falling to the ground, flying threads of blood and other, heavier things coloring the air behind her. She collapsed on top of me, a limp, heavy weight to pin me further. I rolled fully onto my back, knocking her off me and to the side as I raised the gun and pointed it at the monkeys, ready for the next threat.  
  
          I was trying to mentally count how many bullets I had used when I realized someone was chanting. Iga stood behind me, his hands clasped together, fingertips touching with palms apart, his beads between his fingers. His head was bowed, but his eyes open and looking forward at the brawl.  
  
          His chanting seemed painfully loud for a few moments, and I looked back to see that the fight had stopped. All of the monkeys seemed frozen. After looking at a few faces, I realized they were staring at the female sprawled out next to me. I got to my feet as Iga chanted, brushing dirt off my dress and smearing my hands with the blood now soaking into the cloth. I'd have to make sure I paid for the dry cleaning if this dress even made it out of this intact.  
  
          The woman was laying on her back by my feet, arms askew, jet hair spilled almost artfully out around her head. The small, dark spot under her chin leaked shining trails in the firelight, the dirt around her neck darkened as the hungry ground drank greedily. Her dark eyes stared blankly up towards the night sky. She looked like a broken doll, tossed aside by some careless child. I didn't feel remorse. I didn't feel horrified. I just felt sad.  
  
          The monkeys were staring at the dead woman, Iga, and me in turn. As if deciding who were they more intimidated by. I sure hoped it was me, to be outdone by a chanting monk or a corpse was something I wouldn't live down.  
  
          The members of the home team waited, weapons at the ready, catching their breaths. None of the other monkeys had been injured beyond repair. They stood there and bled as they kept watching us. Killing a couple shape shifters was always a great way to get their attention. I just hated going that route. My beef was with the Monkey King, and this woman had paid the price. Of course, she'd have probably killed me if I'd let her.  
  
          I stepped forward and the monkeys backed off, as if I had an invisible forcefield that extended several feet from me and had shoved them away from me. Iga followed behind me, still chanting, a steady rumbling noise. I could see Cherry clearly now.  
  
          Her wrists had been tied to wooden posts on either side of her with chains, and though she still had a shirt on, it only served to cover her back, having been ripped open down the front. She had no pants on, kneeling in the dirt. Her pale head hung low, her frame shaking as it was racked by sobs.  
  
          "Kaji!" I called, getting her attention from watching the monkeys. Rape victims were not a rare occurrence lately that I've run across, and Cherry would not want another male near her. Just as I'm sure Youji would prefer not to be touched by a female at the moment.  
  
          "Cherry?" I squatted down on one knee before her, reaching out to touch the pale hair on that hanging head as she sobbed. She lifted her head and looked at me with tears running down her cheeks, and pulled away from me.  
  
          "Anita-san?" Kaji came up beside me.  
  
          "Can you undo these?" I pointed at the chains. It was enough for her to understand. The chains had simply been wrapped and knotted around the posts, which Kaji managed to open easily. I pulled Cherry to me and she wrapped her arms around my waist, shaking and still sobbing into my shoulder.  
  
          "I can't take anymore," she whimpered into my neck.  
  
          "You don't have to," I promised her. I hate it when people cry. Tears get to me. Real tears, that is. It gets to the point where I'll promise them anything, anything they could want just to please, please stop hurting so badly.  
  
          I turned my glare on the monkeys, getting bland stares back. If they had hurt Nathaniel, so help me God. Nathaniel was everyone's prey. He had no ability to take care of himself. And he'd already been gutted and raped several times because of it. He's had to heal so many times, there had to be a point where he just couldn't heal anymore.  
  
          The Monkey King was going to have to pay for what he'd done. For hurting my people, for letting me kill one of his. Where's Buddha when you need him?


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19.

            Iga took off his outer robe for Cherry to cover up with, and Kaji wrapped it around the crying wereleopard. The monk stood there in his white under-robes, and must be one of the only lycanthropes I'd ever seen that wasn't naked upon shedding his outer clothes.

            "The other three, Nathaniel, Asher, and Ken, where are they?" I looked to Kannon. He snapped out the question at the monkeys that were still staring. There was a bit of shuffling, and the crowd parted to make a space beyond them. 

            Zane was bounding through the hole in the crowd before I could say anything, so I stroked Cherry's back reassuringly.

            "Cherry, I'm going to get Nathaniel," I told her quietly. Cherry pulled back from me and wiped at her cheeks, nodding, her eyes red-rimmed. I stroked her hair once more and left her to Kaji. I walked through the hole in the monkeys, Browning still out. The monkeys glowered at me, but didn't make any moves towards me. Wise. Everyone else followed behind me, Jason bringing up the rear and Iga still chanting.

            At first I didn't comprehend what I saw. My brain had to take the picture in and then process the details before it gave me the full effect. I swallowed hard and tried to force my legs to walk forward, only to find they didn't want to move.

            Nathaniel, who was still clothed, had been impaled on three tall stakes driven into the ground. One through his left chest near his shoulder, another through his lower right abdomen, the last through his right thigh. And his own weight was dragging him down. His leg weighed less that the rest of him, so that had dropped slower, tilting his body. He was clutching at the stake through his chest to stop himself from sliding, but even supernatural strength can tire. About a foot and a half of blood coated wood showed above his body, making him level with about my waist. Bits of cloth from his shirt and other...small, dark globs had caught on the splintered wood. I didn't want to guess what they were, but it was too late. How long had it taken him to drop that far?

            "Nathaniel...." My feet moved forward finally, my concern outweighing my horror. He turned his face towards me, face streaked with still wet tears. His long hair hung down from his head to the ground like a dark waterfall pouring from his head. 

            "Anita." His voice was strained with pain, eyes dark in the shadows from the fire. I walked right up to his side, near his head, and reached out to support the back of his head, sliding my fingers through his hair. I was shaking, but not out of horror. I'd gone past horror. I was pissed.  

            Nathaniel's teeth gritted in pain and his eyes clenched up, the weight of his head falling completely in my hand. His hand eased off the wood in exhaustion and with a grunt of pain, his hand tightened again.

            "Jason!" I yelled, trying to hold up Nathaniel's head and keep my gun pointed at the same time. Jason appeared beside me in a flash, along with Kuroda and Kannon. I tried to lift Nathaniel's head higher, only to hear him whimper at the way I was angling his head. I lowered it a little.

            "We could snap the stakes or lift him off." Jason looked to Nathaniel's face as if asking for permission. "Lifting him off would be quicker."

            "Do it," Nathaniel said somewhere between a whimper and a sob. Kannon explained to Kuroda, who flung his chain over his shoulder and nodded, taking hold of Nathaniel's leg. I shot a glance at the monkeys, and they stood there, watching me, all with condescending and hungry expressions. It was probably the first time their entertainment had the nerve to fight back. Like going to Disneyland, only to be shot at by Mickey and Friends.

            Kaji stood off to the side, her arms wrapped around Cherry, who was leaning against her, and trying to pull the robe tighter around herself, her eyes on Nathaniel. Youji was standing near them, seeming to have shaken off some of his own trauma, no longer needing support. His eyes were still dark and haunted, but horror and anger were creeping up in them. His lips had fallen into a grim line.

            I heard a shuffle and shifted my eyes to the weremonkeys. The moment no one was watching them, a couple had moved forward. I shot one in the gut and watched him fall, curling into a fetal position, and the others around him backed off a bit. 

            I'd gotten to that point. I could shoot and not care. I considered inflicting a wound for each of Nathaniel's, wanting revenge, but decided to save that for the Monkey King himself. He was the one responsible for letting this happen. He had a whole shitload of pain and suffering to pay for. I've tortured a man before, but I ended his suffering quickly once I'd gotten what I wanted. I don't know if that made me better, but it made me more merciful. Or so I believed. It was the only way to deal with it. 

            I heard the scream break from Nathaniel's lips, and I wanted to look. Most people wouldn't; couldn't deal with it. But I'd made it a rule that if the suffering person had to endure it, I could endure seeing it. But in this case, I'd just shot one of the weremonkeys, and the scream could push them into an attack. 

            Nathaniel cried out again behind me, but the monkeys didn't attack. I could see the gleam in their eyes, something weak and injured was just on the other side of me, something that was bleeding and crying. Apparently, fear was enough to keep them back.

            "We got him, Anita," Jason's voice announced. I peeked over my shoulder to see Kaji coming up to stand guard in my place. He nodded at me, and I turned to go to Nathaniel's side as he was lowered to the ground. Kannon was cradling his head, with Jason kneeling by his legs. Zane was at his right shoulder, leaning over to lick his face with a long raspy tongue.

            The wounds, from what I could see through the clothes, were large and ugly. Wounds that you'd be afraid would gangrene and rot if not kill. 

            "Let him shift," Jason suggested. "It'll heal him."

            Zane lifted his head and turned to head-butt my shoulder as if in agreement. 

            "Can you shift, Nathaniel?" I asked him, laying a hand over the wound in his upper chest. He took a raspy breath and nodded. And then it started. 

            His skin started to writhe, as if things were pushing against the inside of his skin. The movements were large enough to see through his clothing, bones popping wetly. Nathaniel arched and writhed and there was a ripping sound as Kannon's thighs and the ground beneath him were suddenly drenched in a clear fluid. The skin on Nathaniel's arms split open with small tearing sounds that made me wince, a howl breaking from Nathaniel's lips. 

            More of the clear fluid and wet fur spilled out from under the ragged, retreating flesh I could see as Nathaniel's body reformed itself. His fingers dug into the dirt and created deep furrows that no human fingers should have been able to make. Tawny fur flowed down over his hands and down his fingers, the small cries from his mouth becoming choked growls as his face restructured and changed shape. His body shrank as it twisted and writhed, until finally, a tan colored leopard laid on its side, wrapped in the tattered remains of Nathaniel's clothing, its sides heaving as it panted. 

            Zane leaned down and grabbed onto the shirt with his teeth, tearing it off and then nudging the other leopard's face. Nathaniel lifted his head and received the tongue that dragged over his face in reassuring strokes. His now golden eyes blinked owlishly at me, and he struggled to his feet, trying to free his hind legs from the jeans he'd been wearing. The change had healed him; no blood marked his fur. 

            Two left. Asher and Ken. 

            "Where's the last two?" I asked Kannon as he shook his hands, flinging droplets of lycanthrope slime off the ends of his fingers. He asked the monkeys the question, and they parted once more. We walked the gauntlet of hostile stares to come to the next clearing. 

            Asher's coffin was wrapped in shining chains with wooden crosses hanging off them. Large, wooden, makeshift crosses stood like haggard guardians around it. Like a burial plot. Flowing through, around, and beyond was a carpet of ground hugging fog. A natural fog would have been burned off by the bonfires along the walls. This was the Monkey King's cloud. All that was missing was a few skeletons and maybe a crow or two. But we had fog. 

            Behind all of it, about five yards back, was a carved rock throne. Sitting in it was a man dressed in yellow. He had his left arm propped on the arm of the throne, fingers to his face as if contemplating. A long staff of some sort leaned against the side of the throne. There was just enough distance and lack of decent light for no further details.

            The last barrier between him and me was Asher's plot of crosses. My free hand reached for the small, silver cross I always wore at my neck, and I squeezed it once. Asher was trapped. Freeing a trapped vampire was tricky. He could be catatonic, or stark, raving mad. It think that secretly, vampires are claustrophobic.

            I could understand that though. I'm claustrophobic. Claustrophobic, acrophobic, it's a wonder I'm not afraid of vampires and microscopic germs. I've woken up in a coffin with a vampire attempting to turn me. I'd screamed and fought the coffin while lying on top of the vampire until I'd found the lid moved if I pushed at it hard enough. We'd burned that vampire's haven to the ground with her and her minions inside it. Because she'd bitten and corrupted me already, I had the joy of experiencing her death with her. If not for FBI agent Bradley Bradford and Larry handcuffing and locking me in a car, I'd have run back into that building to save her. 

            Swallowing down the memories of kicking out the car window and having to be sedated, I returned to the task at hand. The memories helped me refocus. I've dealt with worse.

            "Jason, Kannon, someone, tear down the crosses," I said calmly as I watched the man on the throne. A lycanthrope could do the job a lot faster than I could. I finally saw movement in the fog around the base of the throne, and realized someone was sitting there. Couldn't tell who yet.

            Jason and Kannon came forward, the others staying between the monkeys and the injured. The two grabbed the crossing sections and tore them off with loud cracks of breaking wood. Once the crosses had become harmless, standing wood, they were promptly kicked over. Then they turned to the coffin, tearing the small crosses off the chains and throwing them out into the fog. They grabbed the chains and immediately jerked their hands back, hesitating.

            "They've got silver in them." Jason looked back to me. His tone said it was merely an announcement, not an excuse. I nodded, imagining Asher's panic upon awaking. Had he screamed? Had he fought the coffin until his strength had faded? 

            "Let's do it?" Kannon asked.

            Jason nodded, and they grabbed onto the chains, hissing as they pulled. The metal started to screech as it was forced beyond its own strength. Only metal has that odd, chilling scream that can send a shiver up your spine even in bright sunlight. The two kept up the pressure until the chains snapped, then were quickly thrown into the fog. Each immediately began to shake their hands as if able to shake the painful burns out. 

            I stepped forward then, leaving my cross hanging out on my chest, and holstered the Browning. It would be up to me to open the coffin. My cross would protect me from Asher if needed. The fog swirled around my calves as I passed through it. The coffin was silent. For one horrible moment I feared the coffin was empty. I stepped up next to it, knelt, and...quietly knocked on the lid. "Asher?" 

            There was no response to that either. I exchanged glances with Jason, and reached for the edge of the lid. Everything was deathly quiet. Too quiet. Famous last words. I pulled up and the lid didn't move. I jerked again. Nothing. They must have nailed it shut.

            Kannon's arm brushed my shoulder and fingers fell across mine. I glanced to my side to see Kannon had stepped up beside me, fingers sliding under the lid edge. Jason had leaned across the lid to also grab hold of the edge, touching my fingers. I looked to each in turn and we all shared a nod, then took a deep breath. We pulled.

            I don't recall what I saw. I lost a few moments of time. I just knew my whole face hurt, and I realized something was pressed up against my back. I grabbed for it, whatever it was, and my fingers met dirt. The air was cool and I couldn't see anything but white. Then suddenly I heard the screaming.

            I sat up in a jerk, and realized I was on the ground, the fog wrapped around my stomach and streaming from my hair. I blinked through tear-filled eyes to see a struggle going on above me. Someone's legs were kicking beside the coffin. I couldn't see the upper part of the body, blocked by the coffin.

            "Anita! STOP HIM!" A voice screamed, and I realized it was Cherry. I blinked hard and got to my feet, my face throbbing. Kannon was half in and half out of the coffin, his legs kicking wildly. Jason was yelling, trying to crawl into the coffin from the still closed, lower half.

            Then Kannon flew backwards out of the coffin, collapsing and vanishing into the fog. Jason was locked in a struggle with arms wrapped in white, and my brain finally caught up to me.

            "Asher!" I yelled, reaching in to grab hold of Jason's shoulders and pull on him. I could hear footsteps running up behind me, calling in panic. My cross suddenly flared like a star, so bright I had to close my eyes. Someone screamed, and I again hit the ground, Jason on top of me. He was short, but he was heavy. I'm going to need to see a chiropractor after this.

            Jason rolled off of me, and I scrambled to my knees in time to come face to face with a bloody-faced vampire just sitting up in his coffin. My cross flared again, and he flung his arm up over his face, retreating back against the lid of the coffin. The glow lessened instantly, like placing something in front of a flashlight.

            "Asher, it's Anita!" I yelled at the cowering vampire. He shrieked something incoherent at me, and I covered my cross with my left hand, curling it into a fist. It wasn't hot, thankfully. I've had a cross burn a hole through my shirt and burn my chest. Crosses and vampires were volatile for all involved.

            "_Mon chardonneret!"[1] The name spilled out of my mouth. Asher froze in his cowering position as if he'd suddenly turned to stone. It was several long moments before his arm moved, just a tiny bit, and I saw a blue eye looking at me through wild strands of glittering gold. I tucked the cross back into my collar, and reached out my left hand to him._

            "_Mon chardonneret, je te bois des yeux."[2] It wasn't me. It wasn't me speaking. I don't even know French. It was Jean Claude bleeding through. Whether he'd felt me and was coming to my help, or it was just his memories, it wasn't me speaking. _

            Asher lowered his arm from his face, revealing the blood-soaked mess he was. It was in his hair, on his face, in his clothes. My knees moved closer and my hand reached out to brush my fingers across his cheek like one might pet the feathers of a bird's wings. Gently. Ever so gently.

            "_Mon chardonneret," my mouth repeated, cupping his cheek now, and I watched his blank stare slowly crumble into anguished coherency. His hand came up to press my hand against his cheek, leaning into it as he closed his eyes._

            "_Tu me fais craquer, mon amour,"[2] he whispered under his breath, and my other hand moved forward to cup the other side of his face as I leaned in close._

            "_Je t'embrasse partout, mon amour,"[3] I whispered to him before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his temple. I tasted copper in my mouth from the brief touch, swallowing it down. Asher was quiet for a moment, sitting there with his eyes closed and holding my hand, before his eyes opened again. He released my hand to look at both our blood-smeared hands._

            "Ma petite, what have I done?" he asked quietly, horrified.

            "Shhh." I squeezed his hand briefly. I heard a gurgling sound behind me, and turned to see Jason and Iga holding Kannon's head and shoulders up from the fog. Blood soaked his mouth, chin, and throat. Asher had torn his throat open. He coughed up a mouthful of blood and sputtered, looking at us with glazed eyes.

            "He'll be okay," Jason said quietly to us, his blood-flecked face serious. "We shouldn't move him just yet."

            Kannon coughed weakly again, and Asher fumbled to get up. I stepped back to allow him to step out of the coffin. A small movement of his head and his blood-streaked hair fell forward to hide the scarred side of his face. 

            The others stood near us, looking at Asher with wide eyes. Youji had taken a few steps back, Zane taking up sentry behind him. None of the wide-eyed monkeys had moved. Everyone just stared.

            And then I heard the clapping. All heads turned to the source. The man on the throne was clapping. Steady and slow like a calm heartbeat. Something hanging from one of his hands glinted in the firelight.

            I turned to Kannon, dropping to my hands and knees. His eyes focused on me, breath rasping noisily and bubbling in his throat as the healing process busy worked. 

            "I'm sorry, Kannon." My eyes dropped from his face for a moment. Words failed me. He coughed again, and a small stream of blood ran down his cheek from the corner of his mouth. His hand fell on mine in the fog, and I lifted it. His fingers tightened around mine and he made a small nod of his head.

            I smiled lightly at him, and he tried to curl his lips into a smile back. I leaned over him to lay a kiss on his forehead.

            "I'm going to get Ken, kick the Monkey King's ass, and we're out of here, okay?" I told him. He lifted his thumb from my hand to point it upward. His flesh of his throat was already knitting, vessels closing up and muscle reconnecting.

            I lay Kannon's hand on his stomach and stood back up, turning my eyes on the man sitting on the throne. He'd stopped clapping, clasping his hands together before his chest.

            Put monkeys on the list of animals I no longer liked.

[1] My goldfinch

[2] I drink you with my eyes

[3] You shatter my heart, my love

[4] I kiss you all over, my love


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20.

      The man's clothing was yellow silk embroidered with red phoenixes. His long, black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail at the back of his head and hung down past his shoulders, fixed with pins of trailing jade. His face had been painted in lines of gold and vermilion, making him seem unreal. He seemed small, wiry, sort of like the small dog with a tiny bark but giant enthusiasm to make up for it. 

      The person sitting at the base of the throne was Ken, a metal band around his neck with a chain leading to the man's hand. Ken looked none the worse for wear, some dirt smudges on his face, a spot of blood or two, but in rather good shape. He'd been stripped down to his simple black T-shirt and jeans. Still clothed, which meant much better shape than anyone else. His eyes were large and he looked up at me with a kind of terror. Poor guy. This would be the second time we traumatized him.

      It wasn't hard to guess who this man in yellow silk must be. Maybe the throne gave it away. 

      "Son Goku?" I asked, stepping before the throne. 

      He got to his feet, grabbing the staff, and made a sweeping bow, every movement full of flowing grace and trailing silk as he stepped up to me. Ken grabbed onto the chain with both hands to avoid being drug by his neck, skidding along on his right hip. Like a puppy drug by a careless child.

      Surprisingly, Goku was about my height. Maybe an inch taller, but he was much shorter than I'd expected. And his eyes were startling. They were a brown leaning towards copper, seeming to reflect light like a metallic paint job on a car. His eyes practically glittered on their own. Eyes of fire. Go figure.

      "Blake-san." Goku smiled. No, _beamed_ was the more appropriate word. "I am Son Goku, the Monkey King. A pleasure to meet you."

      His English was nearly perfect, just a bit of accent.

      "Wish I could say the same," I said sternly. 

      He frowned a moment, one eyebrow lifting. "No introduction?"

      "You know who I am." I narrowed my eyes.

      "Don't I get a kiss?" He smiled again.

      "No." I just wasn't in the mood.

      "I think you should give me a kiss at least."

      "You're shit out of luck."

      "You seduce a vampire out of a blood rage but you won't give me a kiss?"

      "You got it." Can I just shoot him now? Please, please, please?

      "But...you shot and killed my people," Goku said in a pouty fashion, lower lip puffed out and eyes narrowing. 

      "You stole and tortured my people," I shot back. Shit, were we even again?

      His eyebrows raised as if startled by that response. "Did not."

      "Yes, you did."

      "I did not."

      "Yes, you did."

      "I did not."

      Geez, this was going nowhere. I dressed up, battled weremonkeys, seen my people raped and beaten, and now I was arguing like a two-year-old. 

      "They gave them to me," Goku insisted. 

      "Who's they?" My eyebrows shot up.

      "Fujiwara-san."

      THAT FUCKING BASTARD. The only good vampire is one with a stake through his damned, undead heart. "He had no right. These are my people!"

      "Well, they're mine now. You didn't bring me a present and you won't give me a kiss."

      "I had them first."

      "Did not."

      "Did too."

      "Did not."

      I was sooo not doing this. I'd have to follow Kannon's advice. "How about a trade?"

      "Trade?" Goku perked right up. 

      "What do you want in exchange for my people?"

      "My people."

      "Mine first."

      "Are not."

      "Yes, they were!"

      "Are not."

      God, just shoot me now. "Will you trade or not?"

      "How about a kiss?"

      "No."

      "No trade then."

      I caught myself reaching for the Browning. "All you want is a kiss?"

      "A kiss first, sex later."

      If we'd been in a bar, I'd have thrown my drink in his face. Then broken a chair over his head. Then stabbed him repeatedly with the broken splinters of wood. Then dropped a nuclear bomb on him. I'm an aggressive drunk. "I refuse."

      Goku shrugged smugly. The Browning was in my hand before my brain could follow, and the sharp retort of the bullet leaving the chamber told me I was kicking his ass now. 

      He dropped to one knee and I pulled the trigger twice more into that mass of yellow silk. Nathaniel was taken care of. 

      I didn't see the end of the stick as much as sensed the movement. The blur of movement caught me in the chin. I had the sensation of falling this time, but I don't remember hitting the ground, or I just didn't feel it. Too fast to see coming, too fast to plan for, whichever, it still meant I was in trouble.

       I was staring up at the night sky, the stars twinkling cheerfully at me, and the end of the stick moved in my view. There was a lack of sound; all I could hear was my own breathing through my skull. Then my ears seemed to pop like coming down from high altitude, and I could hear someone calling my name. I wanted to sit up and answer them, but my body refused to move. I could feel my body; it just wouldn't comply. 

      Muscles twitched, and suddenly I could move, my fingers digging into the dirt, and I pushed myself up. I'd lost the Browning to the fog. The end of the stick was shoved nearly into my nose. I followed the length of the stick back to Goku. He was clutching at his chest, breathing raggedly, his eyes glittering ferally. His breathing sounded wet and gurgling in his chest, so I knew I'd hit a lung. He'd let go of the chain, and Ken had moved out of the way, wise enough to know you don't enter a gun and monkey fight unarmed.

      "Anita!" That was Jason, I could hear him just behind me. Not taking my eyes from the Monkey King, I lifted a hand to indicate Jason to stop. 

      "It's between me and him," I said, my voice coming out a little raspy. "Stay out of it."

      I heard shuffling behind me, and slid back away from the end of the stick a little. Goku just kept glaring at me, waiting for his lungs to heal. I got back to my feet carefully, making sure everything responded. The end of the stick followed my movements, ready to jab at me.

       I grabbed the hilt of the machete, and Goku tensed, ready for my next move. I slid my right foot forward a little and pulled the blade out of the sheath. The end of the stick jabbed at me, and I slid my left foot around, turning my body around completely and away from the stick. I completed the twirl with the machete flying around for Goku's neck and shoulder area.

      He threw up his left arm before his face and the blade sank in until it met bone. I jerked on the blade and saw movement out of my peripheral vision. The stick hit me in the left shoulder and sent me stumbling to my knees. I kept the machete this time though, feeling it in my hands as they met the ground to catch myself.

      I started turning to meet Goku's next move, and felt something click inside of me. I was immediately filled with heat and the warm smell of fur. I felt power run down my body like slipping into water. The scent that filled my nostrils was masculine, musky, and wild. Goku had stopped in mid-movement behind me, nostrils flaring. 

      The marks that bound me to Jean Claude and Richard had opened. Or more precisely, the mark to Richard had opened. Maybe he'd sensed I was in a fight, whatever it was, he flowed into my body, filling me up with his power. I wrapped that power around myself, and could feel the moon in the sky above me. Alpha lycanthrope against alpha lycanthrope. Now it was fair.

      I was on my feet before I'd realized I was moving, and apparently before Goku had as well. The machete was suddenly biting so deeply into the stick he'd throw up in a block I couldn't pull it back out. I shoved the machete down to the ground to twist the stick out of his hand, and let go once the stick dropped.

      He moved at the moment it did, and I was ducking blows too fast to see. The part of my brain that handled defense seemed to be on autopilot, leaving me to plan my offense. I kicked out at the side of Goku's knee when he extended his leg forward, and he staggered, the leg flying out from under him. He dropped to his hands and good knee, and I kicked him in the face. 

      He was flung over backwards, and I fished for the stick and machete in the fog. His foot landed on the middle of the stick as I grabbed the hilt of the machete, tearing it from my fingers again. He was back on his feet in an instant and I took a kick to the ribs that nearly threw me off my feet. Only quick footwork kept me on my feet.

      I caught myself in time to look back and duck under a fist headed for my face. I intertwined my fingers together and drove the doublefist into his gut, making him hop back from me with a heavy exhale of breath.

      He came back at me, foot kicking for my face, and I threw my head backwards to avoid it. As the rest of my body followed my head to the ground, I kicked my feet up in an attempt to hit anything. Maybe it was sheer luck, but my right foot caught Goku right in the crotch exposed by his kick.

      My back hit the ground, making me exhale in a rush and I was already rolling over to push my way back up. Goku was on hand and knees, clutching his crotch. There are many times I've been grateful that part of the male anatomy was so sensitive. This was one of them. 

      I stood there, taking in great gulps of air as my breathing tried to catch up to me. Goku stayed as he was, a small line of saliva dripping from his lips as he held himself and panted shallowly. I counted the kick to the crotch as for Cherry. Had I gotten everyone? I think so.

      I was about to deliver another kick to his face for myself when I realized my skin was crawling. At first I'd thought it was goosebumps from Richard's power, but it started to get so bad, it was as if my skin were trying to pull free of my body. It felt like every insect in the world was crawling under my skin, frantically trying to find an escape route. The sheer horror of the sensation took my breath away for a moment.

      That's when the screaming started. And by screaming, I don't mean angry or war cry screaming, but screams of terror and agony. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Monkeys were scattering in all directions like oil scattering from the introduction of soap on the surface of water.

Enough monkeys scattered that I could see what had caused it. It was huge, and dark, seeming not to have a solid form, but more a heavy darkness. Heavy enough to touch. Like a standing bead of water that would change shape at the slightest tremor. Not even the light of the torches offered any idea of a surface; it seemed to suck in the light like a miniature black hole. It reminded me of a giant dog in its current state, a crouching Hound of the Baskervilles with a screaming body in its jaws. Two baleful, yellow lights like giant fireflies shone out from amidst the black above the trapped body. A heavy, crunching sound like biting into a fresh apple silenced one of the screaming voices. 

      "Oni! Oni!" was the scream repeating from all across the area. 

      Whatever oni was, I knew a demon when I saw one, even if it was foreign. I hadn't seen it appear, didn't know what had summoned it. Whoever had was completely insane.

      The body the demon was holding was thrown aside and the demon jumped, chasing after the scattering monkeys and grabbing another. I looked around for my people and found them on the edge of the crowd neared me.

      "JASON!" I screamed. "RUN!"

      They did. They ran towards me. I guess it was the only real direction they could go that took them away from the demon.

      I caught more movement out of the corner of my eye, and Goku was moving in a blur of yellow. Towards the demon.

      I turned around and fished for the Browning where I think I dropped it. I fond it and tucked it away in a hurry, turning to find the machete. I found it being offered to me hilt first by Ken. His eyes were as wide as ever.

      I took it with a nod and folded part of the dress, wiping the blade free of blood before sheathing it. I'd gummed up a few sheaths before I learned to do this. The others caught up with me just as the hilt met the sheath.

      As braver members of the crowd rushed forward to help their king, someone grabbed my arm and I was grabbing for the Browning before I recognized Iga. 

      "Nigero!" he yelled at me, trying to spin me around back towards the crowd, pointing to a space along the wall. He was right, the only way out was past the demon as it was distracted by the monkeys running in all directions. 

      Now, if there is a time where a woman must stop and wonder if a situation is strange, there is also a time where a woman must stop and wonder what the right thing to do was. Do the right thing, or do the safe thing. True, the monkeys had stolen and tortured my people, but vampires and demons were two different things. No one deserved to be destroyed by a demon. Not even I could defeat a demon.

      "I can't leave them to be slaughtered!" I yelled, jerking my arm out of Iga's grasp. "It'll destroy everyone!" 

      A high, drawn out scream rode over the clearing before it cut short abruptly. Someone else was screaming and screaming as fast as they could draw breath.

      I grabbed Iga by his upper arms, not caring if he understood me or not. "I need you to pray!"

      Iga gave me a perplexed look, and I clasped his hands together in the common position for prayer between my own. "Pray!"

      He stared at me with his golden fox eyes, and then the chanting spilled forward from his lips. 

      "Anita!" Jason was holding up Kannon, and looked to me for direction.

      "Stay here, Jason," I said hurriedly. "If the demon starts to head this way, get everyone out anyway you can."

      He looked back at me with shocked eyes. "Where are you going?!"

      "Tell them all to pray, Iga!" I yelled at the monk as I turned and ran towards the demon. "Louder!"

      I heard his voice rise as I ran towards the demon. What the hell was I doing? Oh yeah, the right thing. God help me.  He was the only one who could.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21.

            I plowed into some of the monkeys as they ran towards me. My free hand felt for and found the cross about my neck, pulling it out and holding it between my fingers as I finally got through the mass. 

            Goku was nothing but a zipping flash of yellow as he leapt around the demon, distracting it into grabbing for him so his people could escape. He struck at it with the stick and it hissed, the sound making the inside of my skull ache. Some of Goku's braver folks had lingered and shifted into large monkeys. They danced around the demon, screaming, backing up their alpha. 

            I saw Goku finally get swatted, sending him flying through the air to strike a wall of the cul de sac, and some of the monkeys converged on the demon. The demon swiped at a few, scattering them like bowling pins. It followed and pounced, grabbing one up in its mouth. I watched the monkey separate at the waist, the two parts falling in two different directions.

            I dropped to my knees on the ground and ripped the cross from my neck. I lost way too many chains, though usually it's not my own fault. Holding it out before me, I tried to recall the Lord's Prayer.

            "And there in the same country shepherds abiding the field, keeping watch over the sheep by night!" SHIT! Why can I never remember the Lord's Prayer?! Why do I only remember Christmas?! "And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid!"

            The demon shied back suddenly, its glowing eyes turning around to focus on me. Something inside me shrunk and twisted as if in death throes. I was immediately chilled to the bone. Some people think they know what that's like. Not until they've stared a demon in the face. 

            It made a movement towards me and immediately backed off, flinging its 'head' about like a dog that just had its nose whapped with a rolled up newspaper.

            I realized I heard chanting. It was more than one voice. Monkeys all around had taken up chanting. No one seemed to be saying the same thing, but at least some had heard Iga and they had gotten the drift. 

            Goku reappeared from the crowd to rapidly limp back before the writhing demon, the stick held between his hands horizontal as if he were preparing for an attack. He was also yelling at the demon, standing proud and defiant. Someone stepped up beside me, and I turned to see Iga had pushed his way forward. The string of beads from his neck hung in his hands as he chanted, his voice loud and clear. The monkeys nearby were starting to copy his chant, repeating after him. 

            "And the angel said unto them. Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be unto all people! For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savoir, which is Christ the Lord!" Go me, the only representative of Christianity.

            The demon was definitely uncomfortable now, thrashing about and backing up as Goku advanced on it carefully, body tense with knees bent, ready for an attack. Iga was slowly advancing as well, his chanting almost sounding like a lightly wavering song. In any other situation, I think it would have been relaxing. The demon made a chattering sound and shrieked, which set off the Monkey King. He screamed and leapt at it, stick coming around for a blow. 

            He never struck. He landed on the ground and fell to one knee as the demon seemed to shrink and fade out as his stick passed through it, completely vanishing by the time Goku's feet hit the ground. He pushed back to both feet, searching for where the demon might have gone, and looking very intimidating. With his clothing tattered and his long hair in wild disarray, the face paint only further pushed him into something otherworldly and dangerous. 

            Everyone kept praying but for me, though I kept holding the cross out. The only one facing it now was Goku. I knew we hadn't defeated the demon. It had only retreated. We needed some major holy people to bind it. It was only the strength in numbers and the power of faith that had saved us this time.

            Silence fell and I looked to Iga, who stayed where he was, pushing beads through his fingers, looking at the Monkey King, who kept avidly searching for the demon to reappear. 

            I got to my feet, dusting off the dress that was undoubtedly ruined now. I don't think the power of dry cleaning would save it.

            "Blake-san!" Goku yelled at me and I looked to him. "It's gone?"

            "For now." I nodded, examining the clasp on my necklace. It was dead. The clasp had been torn off the chain. 

            Goku placed the end of the stick on the ground and ever so slightly leaned on it. "Why did you stay?"

            "I couldn't leave you to fight that alone."

            "Why?" Goku demanded, lifting the stick to point it at me. "We are not allies."

            My eyes fell on the bodies and pieces that littered the ground amidst the fading fog, men and women alike. Even if some had shifted to monkey shape, upon death they'd shifted back. There were dozens of them. The demon had started killing quickly.

            "You rather I'd left?!" I snapped back. Goku stared at me for a long time, and slowly lifted the stick to wave it towards his dead people.

            "Are we even?"

            I blinked at that, staring at the indicated bodies. "What?"

            "My people for yours."

            My eyes fell on the face of one woman who had nearly been severed in half. The lower half of her body was connected to the upper half only by her spine and some muscle, twisted the opposite direction of her upper body. Unidentified tissue and internal organs spilled out from both halves. Her hair had been cut short to curl around her face. Her eyes were still open; the expression on her face was one of shock. She'd been dead before she hit the ground.

            "We're even," I agreed. Goku stepped towards me, and I waited for him to approach. It wasn't just paint that marked his face, one half was bathed in blood. His clothes were stained dark in the firelight, and he had a marked limp. Blood dripped off the fingers of the hand he extended. I had to hand the Monkey King one thing. He was the only person I've even known of to escape a demon's attack in one piece. And after I'd been kicking his ass. He was one tough son of a bitch. I lifted my hand and he clasped it, coating my hand in his blood.

            "Even," he repeated, his breath heavy and strained, staring at me with his strange eyes. I nodded, and he released me.

            "Take your people." He motioned with his chin. "I accept your gift."

            I nodded and turned to find the others, Iga following. I started to push through the people gathered behind me, but they parted like the Red Sea, hurrying to get out of my way. I found the others gathered by the throne. 

            "Can we leave?" Kannon asked raspily as I neared.

            "Yes. Let's go."

~~~~~~~~~

            Kaji sat between Cherry and Nathaniel in the back seat. Nathaniel and Zane stayed in leopard form so as to not disturb Cherry with their naked human forms. As it was, Cherry leaned against Kaji, who held her close, stroking her hair and crooning to her. Nathaniel curled up against Kaji's side and purred. Zane sat on the floorboard on Nathaniel's side, adding his own rusty purr. Ken drove as I rode shotgun. Jason, Youji, Kannon, Kuroda, and Iga rode in the other car. I'd taken as few males as possible in my car, leopards excluded, for Cherry and Youji's sake. I knew neither would want to be in the company of the opposite sex for a while. 

            Ken kept glancing at me as we followed the other car this time. I could tell he wanted to ask me something, but I'm not sure if it was his own nervousness or the language barrier that stopped him. After the eight time his mouth had opened and then closed, I reached out and placed my hand on his left arm. He looked back to me, I gave his arm a squeeze, not sure exactly what I was trying to tell him with my eyes. I was glad he was safe. I was sorry his friend was hurt. I was sorry they had to see what they did. And a million other smaller things. 

            He seemed to understand, nodding at me. The rest of the drive was uneventful.

            It was dawn when we got back to Kannon's home. Asher was busy throwing apologies to Kannon and Mother as he was rushed into a backroom and a blanket rapidly draped over the window. While a weak-voiced Kannon and I explained the situation to Mother, wounds were dressed, and everyone put to bed. Cherry, Nathaniel, and Zane were put in a room with me. Jason was banished to another room with Youji and Ken. The two males stayed in leopard form, curling up around Cherry like kittens seeking warmth. I put space between myself and the occasionally furry. Lycanthropes took comfort in touch, could lie naked together and find nothing sexual about it, but I wasn't a lycanthrope. I was a human and a prude, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22. 

I was standing with a two-handed hold, Weaver stance, Browning pointed down the hallway. There was screaming coming from down that dark, hungry hallway. I didn't recognize the voice, but it was male. I walked steadily into the darkness, Browning following my eyes. That was a trick you had to teach yourself to do. If your gun isn't pointing the same way you are looking, often you can't get the gun around in time to shoot whatever it was you saw. It's sorta the opposite of teaching a new driver when you teach them to turn their head and look to the side, or behind them, without turning the whole car as well. Driving and shooting at the same time with any accuracy takes a bit of skill. 

The screams were getting louder, and yet fainter at the same time. I was closer, and the person was getting weaker. Finally, I was pointing the Browning at a dark wooden door. The screams were fading to groans, groans of pain and a voice gone hoarse. I could smell the blood scent through the door. I took a deep breath and removed one hand from the gun to reach for the doorknob. 

I turned the knob and kicked it open, hard, so it would strike the wall behind it. My free hand flew back to support the gun. The loud sound of the door slamming against the wall echoed in my head as I took in the scene before me. 

It was familiar, that huge, dark thing before me. The way its darkness seemed to have no definite shape. Under it laid a pale body. Short, white-blonde hair spilled on the floor like a burning spark of light in all that darkness. The smell of blood was choking. 

Pale, shining..._things were held in extensions of darkness. My eyes followed them to see they led to the body. They were intestines. The victim, the man, had been torn open, and the darkness was feeding off him while he was still alive. The darkness tugged, and the intestines pulled free with a wet, ripping sound. The man groaned because he couldn't scream. His head tilted back, and brilliant blue eyes stared at me. Stared at me with total comprehension. Stared at me in total shock and betrayal. The darkness seemed to look up at me as well and two baleful, yellow lights like giant fireflies shone at me from amidst the black._

      Something grabbed my arm. I screamed.

      Someone screamed back. I flung myself away from whatever it was that had grabbed me, and my back met a wall. I pointed the Browning before I looked to find myself facing down Nathaniel. He was on his knees by the side of my futon, dressed in a loose and lavender-colored, Kung-fu or pajama style outfit. I also realized I didn't have a gun in my hands. My hands were clasped together like I should be holding one, but the gun wasn't there.

      Nathaniel had both hands clasped to his chest; his lilac eyes open wide and panicked. I took a deep, shuddering breath, my pulse still racing. I felt sore from last night's fighting, but it was nothing I couldn't bear. My left arm, my chin and my ribs hurt the most.

      "Nightmare?" Nathaniel asked in a tiny voice. "You were struggling in your sleep."

      "Yeah." I relaxed my hands to pull my hair back away from my face. My face was still a little sore too. I tried to think of who the man in the dream was. No one I recognized. Maybe the demon had rattled me more than I'd thought. I knew it was still out there somewhere. I'd have to warn Mother about it. Shaking it off, I looked back to Nathaniel. "Where's Cherry?"

      "In the woods." Nathaniel sat back on his behind to show me his bare feet. "She's hunting."

      I nodded as I crawled back onto the futon, looking around the room. "Have you seen the others?"

      "Youji's taking a bath, Ken's talking to Oka-san, Zane's hunting with Cherry, Jason and Kannon are around somewhere, Asher is undead in the other room and I'm here with you." He beamed at me as if proud he could provide a full report, then slunk onto the edge of the futon. Sitting on his knees, he tilted his head to look at my face, his hair pulled back into a ponytail. 

      "I knew you would come and save us," he said, looking at me like an adoring puppy. I reached out and stroked the side of his face and he smiled.

      "Did you ever have any doubts?" I asked him, trying to sound suspicious. 

      "Not once." He fell over to lay on his side and curled, looking up at me with a peaceful look. It was funny how a full-grown man could be so child and kitten-like. I wasn't sure whether to pet him, hug him, or kiss him. I'm sure all three would have been gladly accepted. I reached out to pet his hair and he closed his eyes.

      We sat like that a moment before there was a soft knock at the door.

      "Yes?" I asked, and Nathaniel looked to the door.

      "Anita, it's Kannon. It nears eight o'clock," was the reply through the door. His voice was back to normal, to my relief.

      Eight o'clock. What was important about that time?

      "Remind me, Kannon. What was I supposed to do at eight o'clock?" I asked as Nathaniel tried to curl himself closer around my legs.

      "We were supposed to meet Rune and the foreign wereleopards at Meiji Jingu."

      Oh shit! The revelation startled me so much that I kicked Nathaniel in the gut. After apologizing to him, I scrambled to get dressed.

      After checking on the, ahem, dead to the world Asher, we were on the move. Kannon was driving again. He was in rather good shape for having his throat torn open the night before. He was still as chipper and happy as ever. 

      Jason had insisted on coming, saying he was my protection. Ken had also insisted on coming, saying he wanted to find some sign of his friend, Omi. The rest of the furballs had been left behind for their protection. I wasn't about to lead them into the Master of the City's lair. Youji had been left behind as I didn't think he was ready to deal with vampires just yet. I had been ready to leave Ken behind as well, until he'd flung himself against the car doors and refused to move unless we took him with us.

      We were late to Meiji Jingu, which was just a bad way to start out the day. I spotted the girl and Synne before the rest. They were just so bright. They were under the same tree as before. Synne was again dressed in white, slacks and a long overcoat closed up the front and with a high collar. Even his shoes were white. Again the silver bell was at his throat, with the same cross earring dangling from his right ear. He was sitting on the grass in the shade of the tree with a book in his hands. Clone three more versions of him and you'd get an albino boy band. Now there's a gimmick.

      The girl was in a tug of war for the end of her white and pink flowered kimono, which was held by the tow-headed male. Her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders. A large bow of pink lace had been tied about her throat, spilling down the front of the kimono. 

      The male was lying on his back on the grass, holding firmly onto a handful of the girl's kimono, making her laugh and struggle to free it. He was dressed in black today, the outfit looking very much like a Japanese school uniform. Gold buttons and a high collar with a white trim, white shirt sleeves peeking out the open sleeves of the outer jacket. 

      Rune was leaning back against the tree trunk, hands folded behind his head with his eyes closed. He wore dark blue pants that clung to his legs and loosened only at his black boots. Small, metal bells, chains, and other dangles hung from random spots of the pants. He had no shirt, only a wine violet vest, with silver and gold bangles around his biceps. The open front of the vest revealed a large, raised and shiny scar that traveled from Rune's right collarbone to vanish towards his ribs behind the vest. They had obviously dressed to meet vampires. 

      We'd tried our best. Kannon was dressed in a jet-black Japanese outfit that bared his arms to the shoulders. Jason had a similar outfit in dark blue with black pants. Ken had been packaged the same but in a dark green top. A matching set of three. I'd been put into a bright and blood red, Oriental style dress. Slits ran up the sides, the sleeves were barely there, and the collar was high. The short sleeves showed off the large, discolored bruise on my left arm. I had a large black sash wrapped about my waist. I'd used boots from a trunk I thought was Asher's, but turned out to be from Jean Claude. Now, I know Jean Claude used to swing both ways, or maybe that was just with Asher, but the man had too much fashion sense. And everything always fit.

      The boots were soft, supple, black leather, and encased my legs all the way up nearly to my groin. I'd folded down the tops to mid thigh. I'm certain the height of the boots and the resulting, occasional _brushes against my groin had been fully intentional when they were made. _

      The sash hid the Firestar at the small of my back, and the Browning was tucked into the front with an extra clip. It bulged a little, but not enough for the casual observer to notice. I was hiding it from the civilians, not the vampires. I had the knives strapped to my thighs just inside the tops of the boots so I could reach them through the slits in the dress. I left the machete behind because there was no way to hide it and still reach it.

      The girl was the first to spot us and announced our presence to the others. Rune got up and brushed off the seat of his pants, looking warily at us.

      "Sorry I'm late," I apologized hurriedly. Long night fighting monkeys and demons and all.

      Rune nodded, biting his lower lip. "We have agreed to see Sanesuke. Maybe he will leave us alone after this. But we will not stay with him."

      "Agreed," I said in relief. I felt a nudge to my back and turned to look at Kannon, the guilty party. He motioned with his head, and I followed his gaze to blink in surprise. 

      Mr. Sunshine was standing in the midst of the people passing on the walk up to the temple, a good twenty feet from us. He was wearing blue jeans and a black V-necked shirt trimmed in white. People passed all around him, but his eyes were fixed on us. He didn't look happy at all. Big surprise.

      "Aya!" Ken called, dashing off to meet him.

      Well, he was still alive. That was pleasant news, I think. I wonder how he found us. 

      "A friend?" Rune asked, having followed our gaze. 

      "Sort of," I admitted. Ken was obviously rapidly filling his friend in on what had been happening, the redhead listening intently. Oh boy, I was just waiting for the reaction when he found out what had been happening to his friends. 

      I looked to Kannon as Ken and Aya caught up on current events. "How far is it to Sanesuke's place?"

      "About fifteen minutes drive."

      "We can't fit everyone into our car."

      "We have a car," Rune spoke up. "We'll follow you."

      I smiled at him in appreciation. One thing had worked out today. It was hopeful. He smiled back, almost shyly, and looked back to his pard.

      "Synne, get the car."

      The albino sighed and got to his feet, closing his book, every movement screaming reluctance. He walked up to us, looked me in the eyes, and turned to face his Nimir-Raj. 

      "Let me say I don't like this. Not one bit," he said blandly.

      "Noted. Now go get the car," Rune answered just as bland.

      I didn't see Synne's expression but Rune's hardened before the albino turned and shoved his way through the people down the walkway. He made it a point to drive a shoulder into the back of Ken's as he passed. The assassins paused to glare after him, and then looked back to me. I spread my hands and gave them the universal 'what?' look. Ken motioned at the redhead, and Aya grudgingly followed him back to me.

      "He's coming with us," Kannon translated for Ken. I gave Aya a skeptical look. He gave me a hostile look back. Ooo, touchy.

      Shortly, we were driving again, Aya in my car and burning two holes into the back of my headrest. I could feel it. Kannon was driving us through the Roppongi district, and the traffic was awful, as usual. I think the only place traffic in Tokyo wasn't awful, was outside of it.

      Kannon parked behind a club, squeezing the car into an alley with the pard's car pulling in close beside us. I had to get out on Kannon's side of the car. It was just too tight a fit. I don't think the Japanese believed in parking lots. 

      The club looked high class and trendy from the front. It looked a lot like an ancient, Japanese castle. It had an outer wall, the top edge looking a lot like the roof of the temple Kannon's mother tended. The walls and roof of the building inside was tiered and colored in black and white. The doors in the wall were fashioned out of red painted wood in an arch, and you pulled on large, brass rings to open them. Just like an old castle. It was kind of neat.

      A sign hung above the door in some complex writing that Kannon called 'kanji', and explained the club was named 'The Rising Sun'. Walking past the outer wall, there was a beautiful and simple garden. We walked down a short gravel path, the small bit of yardage in either side wonderfully tended. The grass was short and one smooth color. Strangely shaped boulders had been strategically placed, each with a moat of white pebbles. There were those neat stone carvings that looked like little castles, and Kannon explained they were stone lanterns. Two, small, dark-trunked trees were the only plant life besides the grass. Both were missing leaves, but covered in pink blossoms.

      Two stone lions stood by each side of the door to the building itself, each with one paw lifted. Kannon stepped forward and lifted a ring on this door, pulling it open on soundless hinges. 

      There was a man by the door, a rare tall and broad member of the Japanicus Kickassicus species. He was in a suit as expected. As Kannon negotiated with the bodyguard, I looked around the inside of the club. It was definitely one of your nicer ones. It had couches. Not just booths, but couches. Small, glass tables on brass legs sat by the couches, with rich draperies hanging off the walls. They framed old brush paintings, the ones with the occasional spot of red, pink, or white on them. There was a dance floor off to the far end of the large hall of the nightclub and a bar near the entrance. Fully stocked. The music playing was soft and relaxing, with some kind of harp and a flute. Definitely Japanese sounding.

      The people scattered through the club were in suits or more exotic clothes of black vinyl or leather. A kimono here and there. It was surprisingly quiet for a club, everyone lounging or quietly talking together. Daytime hours must be slow. Only one man stood out. He was in a business suit and sitting relaxedly on a couch along the wall, a newspaper hiding his face. His hair was short and blonde, marking him as the only noticeable foreigner. 

      Kannon tapped my arm, and I turned back to him. There was another bodyguard approaching, but this one was familiar. The tora bodyguard. His face was expressionless as he bent slightly at the waist in a polite manner, and turned sideways to allow us to pass before him down the hallway he had been blocking.

      Off to see the Master, the vampire Master of Tokyo, because, because, because, because, we have to save an assassin. Well, that's my version.


End file.
